


Shout It From The Rooftops

by Dont_Stop_Larry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Bullying, Court Proceedings, F/M, First Dates, First Kisses, Guns, Harry loves to talk, Liam is a great doctor, M/M, Memories, Murder, Mute Louis, Niall is the best friend, No Smut, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Shooting, Sign Language, Therapy, Verbal Abuse, minor character death x2, mute fic, teaching sign language, therapy programs, trial, verdict, young louis and harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 09:28:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 70,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18657652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_Stop_Larry/pseuds/Dont_Stop_Larry
Summary: Plagued by memories of the worst day of his life, Louis Tomlinson feels like he’s constantly living in darkness. Harry Styles might just be the person to bring him back to the light.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyoneeeeee welcome back! It’s been a minute since I’ve posted anything, especially something big, so here goes. 
> 
> This fic was NOT based on real life events. The story and the characters in it are purely fiction. I want everyone to understand this - I’ve had this idea for almost two years and finally started putting it together in January. It is no way connected with recent events. I’ve thought long and hard about posting this. The events of the latter half of March had me contemplating deleting this in its entirety, but I didn’t want my work to go to waste, so I waited a bit before posting as a way of being respectful. I also had certain names changed before starting the fic, as I was uncomfortable using their real names.
> 
> There are scenes in this that may make people uncomfortable or triggered, and I have tagged the story as such. Please read the tags before diving in. 
> 
> With that said, I want to say that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the challenge of writing from a character’s POV who is mostly mute. It gave me a chance to explore my inner dialogue skills. I did a lot of research on psychogenic mutism before I wrote this, but there was not a lot of information about how to treat this type of mutism, especially for adults. I am also not an expert on PTSD, but I did my best to go with what I thought would work. There may still be some errors. Please feel free to message me privately on my twitter (rogueskimo) or my tumblr (thecompasspointstohome) if you have questions or concerns.
> 
> As always, a huge thank you to my beta and editor Chloe, who has been quite the trooper throughout the whole writing process and corrected my many bad attempts at depicting British lifestyle. 
> 
> Thank you to my second editor, Maggie, who really helped me pull out the more creative sides of my writing in this particular world. 
> 
> I hope you all love this story as much as I do. I’m very proud of it and I hope it lives up to the standard I’m expecting in my head haha. Please enjoy. 
> 
> Loads of Love xx
> 
> ~L
> 
> _______________________
> 
> Currently being translated into French by Audrey Trad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/188960535-shout-it-from-the-rooftops-traduction

**> L <**

 

Louis felt a cold liquid hit the back of his head. It slid down his neck and under the collar of his shirt, making him shiver. But he didn’t turn around. If he did, he’d have to face what was happening to him, what always happened to him, and he’d already had one panic attack today. He really didn’t want to have another. 

 

“Come on, mute boy. What do you have to say to us, hmm? Oh that’s right - you can’t say anything.”

 

The laughter and the taunting made Louis’ hands shake. He should be used to it by now, he really should. But every word they said, even if they’d said it a million times before, cut deeper with every syllable. He wished he could turn around and tell them to fuck off. But he couldn’t.

 

“Louis, there’s someone at the register, if you’d like to - what happened, love?”

Louis finally looked up at the sound of Carol’s voice, and his eyes filled with tears at the concerned expression on her face. He didn’t want to be pitied, he didn’t want to be viewed as someone who couldn’t take care of himself, but that’s all anyone ever saw. 

He shook his head, put his rag down, and moved towards the register, trying to ignore the group of boys following him in his peripheral vision. 

 

The woman at the counter was middle-aged, around 50 or so, and she handed him her receipt, a small smile on her lips. Louis attempted a smile back, but he could still feel the remnants of the soda soaking into the back of his pants. He opened his mouth, intending to tell the woman her total. He could usually manage that. It was just numbers. But not today. Nothing came out, not even a small sound. Louis bit the inside of his cheek pointed miserably at the total on the small screen. The woman nodded kindly and handed over her money. 

 

“Thank you for coming to the Yankee Diner! Hope to see you around soon, Martha. Say hi to your daughter for me,” Carol called as she popped up behind the counter. Louis nodded in affirmation to her words and then stepped back, leaning against the back counter and taking a deep breath.

 

A dirty napkin bounced off the side of his head, and he finally looked up, making eye contact with his tormentors. 

 

“Use that to wipe yourself up, dipshit.”

 

With loud cackles and guffaws, the group of boys exited the diner, and Louis felt the effects of holding back an impending panic attack spread through his whole body, making him a bit woozy. 

 

“Watch where you’re going, ya knobs.”

 

Louis felt the tightness in his chest lessen only slightly at Niall’s voice. Niall was here. Niall could take him home, away from here. That’s what he wanted right now. 

 

“Louis, sweets, can you hear me?” Louis jumped a little and looked up at Carol. He nodded slowly, knowing that she needed confirmation or she’d start fussing. “Do you want Niall to take you home? This time of the morning is usually slow - I think I can keep up.”

 

Louis felt terrible, but he nodded again. He hated leaving Carol on her own, but he couldn’t stand another second of being in this place. Not right now. 

 

“Come on, Lou, let’s get you home.”

 

Louis only flinched slightly when Niall took a gentle hold on his arm. Niall was the only one who could do that, but even now, Louis wasn’t quite sure he wanted to be touched. But he let it happen, knowing that if Niall wasn’t guiding him, he’d fall apart, and that was the last thing he needed right now. 

 

The drive back to Niall’s flat -  _ their _ flat now, Louis reminded himself - was a blur. Louis hardly remembered getting in the car, or the walk from the car to the door, but when he came back to himself, he was settled on their borrowed couch, surrounded by boxes and bags of his things. He hadn’t yet gotten to unpacking. 

 

He could hear Niall moving around the place, and then the couch dipped next to him. He forced himself to focus on Niall.

 

“Hey. You’re with me, right?”

 

Louis nodded, suddenly feeling dirty and sticky as he remembered the soda incident. He reached back, trying to pull the damp fabric away from his body, but he couldn’t reach. He wanted it off, right now, but he couldn’t say it. 

 

“Want to take off that shirt? Get into something clean? I’ve got a flannel, if you’d like. Here.”

 

Louis felt the press of warm, wet fabric in his hand, and yet again, tears were swimming at the corners of his eyes. Niall always took such good care of him, even when things got bad, like today. He placed the wet flannel on his knee and pulled his shirt off, huddling in on himself in an attempt to conceal his half naked body.

 

“I’ll go get you one of my shirts. God knows where yours are right now,” Niall said with a laugh, standing and heading down the small hallway to his room. Louis wiped himself down as best he could and waited for Niall to return.

 

Niall’s shirts always felt softer than his own - he wasn’t sure why, but the touch of the fabric on his skin made all the tension go out from his shoulders, and he relaxed back into the couch, closing his eyes. He was exhausted, and he’d barely done anything all day. 

 

“I can make you tea, if you want. I’ve got Yorkshire, your favorite. Made sure to stock up this week.”

 

“Th-thank you,” Louis whispered, his throat aching. It had been days since he’d last talked. He wished it wasn’t like that, but he couldn’t help it. Most of the time, the words just didn’t come out.

 

Niall’s smile upon hearing his voice was enough to get him to smile too. He liked it when Niall wasn’t worrying about him. It made him happy to know that Niall was happy. 

 

Niall returned with the tea, steam floating off the top of the cup. “Two creams, no sugar. Just like you like it.”

 

Louis took a cautious sip and hummed. It was perfect. He could feel the warmth trickling down his throat, heating his body from the inside out. The warmth drove the pain away, even for just a few minutes. 

 

“I feel ... safe.”

 

Niall beamed at Louis’ words, and Louis offered him a half smile, sipping at his tea. Niall flopped down next to him and navigated the TV to Netflix. “So … what terrible movie are we going to watch today, hmm?”

 

 

*

 

After two of the worst Christmas movies he’d ever seen - yeah, it was only November, but Louis liked to start the festivities early - Louis finally decided to start unpacking. 

 

It was taking a lot of time to realize that this was his place now. He had a place that wasn’t with family, if he could even consider his aunt family. He didn’t have to pack up and go home to that horrible house with her horrible voice berating him for not speaking and not being a grown up and not getting over it. She didn’t understand. She never had. 

 

But Niall understood. Niall had been in his life since he was old enough to walk. His mum and Niall’s mum had been in the same yoga class. Niall had been there through primary and secondary school, or what Louis had done of secondary, anyway. Niall had been in the ambulance and at the hospital the day that everything came crashing down. Niall had stuck by him and had taken him in when he needed to escape, and now Niall had offered him half of his home. He couldn’t be more grateful, and he just wished he could express his gratitude.

 

Box after box disappeared as Louis hung clothes in his small wardrobe and placed his toiletries under the bathroom sink where Niall had cleared a space for him. His walls were bare save for one picture, but Louis thought he might decorate a little when he saved up enough from the diner. This place felt more like home - it felt safer and more permanent than any place he’d ever been, other than his first home. This was the best he was going to get. 

 

Niall bustled around him, chatting about the most random things, and Louis just listened, enjoying the lilt of Niall’s thick Irish accent. 

 

Four hours later, both of them collapsed into kitchen chairs, completely spent, but Louis was satisfied. The main room was clear of boxes. It was official. He was home now. 

 

“I don’t feel like cooking - takeout?”

 

“Chinese?” Louis suggested quietly. He’d been craving Chinese for weeks, but his aunt would never let him buy it, even if he’d worked up the courage to ask her. That’s why he much preferred being with Niall. He felt like he could say things freely with him - he didn’t have to hide what he wanted or how he felt, and Niall never pressured him to be better or different. He accepted Louis and all his flaws.

 

Niall grinned and pulled a stack of menus towards him, shuffling them around until he found the right one. “Perfect. You pick what you want, I’ll make the call.”

 

The knock at their door came at exactly 45 minutes after their call, and Louis’ stomach rumbled. Niall was in the shower, so he stood and made his way to the door, money in hand. 

 

When the door swung open, Louis felt the smile slip from his face as his entire body filled with dread. It wasn’t the Chinese food.

 

“Louis William Tomlinson, how fucking dare you leave my house. No one gave you permission. Just who do you think you are, running off like that?” 

 

Louis backed away slowly, not knowing what to do or where to go. He felt like the walls were closing in around him as his aunt continued to yell. The noise was making his heart race. He couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. His back hit the wall and he slid down it, cowering away from her. 

 

“You’re coming home with me, Louis. And don’t you even think of calling out for help - as if you could.” 

 

Louis shook his head violently. No matter what she said, it had never been home for him. Leaving that place had been the best decision he’d made in the last three years. He couldn’t go back there. Being there had reminded him of everything he wished to forget. The colors made him sick - red on white. His aunt’s favorite colors had been his personal nightmare. And then there was Aunt herself. She never spoke quietly, and when she wasn’t yelling at her boyfriend, she was yelling at Louis. “ _ Talk to me, you stupid boy! Stop being so pathetic. It’s been three years. You can’t possibly still miss them. You have to move on like the rest of us. You’ll speak or you’ll get no dinner.” _

 

Louis felt cold, bony hands close around his wrists, pulling his hands away from his ears. He was dizzy from lack of oxygen, his mind swirling. 

 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Get your fucking hands off him!”

 

Louis sobbed with relief as the hands released him, and he curled into a ball on the floor, just wanting it all to go away. He could hear Niall fighting with his aunt, both of them yelling furious insults at the other. He clamped his hands over his ears, praying that he could block out the noises before the memories surfaced and took him back to the one night he wished he could forget. The door slammed shut and Louis shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing the dark thoughts away.

 

“Lou, Louis, are you alright? Where did she come from? Did she hurt you?” 

 

Niall’s questions came fast, one after the other, and Louis shook his head, trying desperately to breathe like Niall had taught him to. He felt careful hands on him, trying to turn him over, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t move and he couldn’t breathe, and he was terrified. 

 

“Lou, breathe with me. You can do it. Nice deep breaths,” Niall coaxed, and Louis scrabbled for something to hold on to, finally gripping into Niall’s shirt. He took a shaky breath, gasping as he tried to breathe deeply. Niall kept at it, coaching him through it, until he could breathe again. 

 

He wiped furiously at his eyes and sat up, back against the wall. Niall’s face came into view, his brow creased with worry. He tried to speak - he wanted to tell Niall that he was ok, even though he wasn’t. Anything to stop Niall looking at him like that. 

 

“Louis … did she hurt you?”

 

Louis shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to keep the tears at bay. Niall reached forward and wiped a few away with a gentle hand. 

 

“Did she know you were here?”

 

Louis shook his head again, opening his mouth to say something, but no words came to him. There was too much going on in his mind. He pounded his fist into his leg, furious with himself. Why was he so fucked in the head? Why couldn’t he just say what he felt? He hated himself.  

 

Niall reached for his wrist, holding it gently but firmly, and glanced at the now closed and locked door, and then back at Louis. “Come on. Let’s get you up. Gonna sit on the couch till the food comes, yeah?”

 

Louis nodded and allowed Niall to pull him to his feet. He pulled away from his friend, however, and curled up in a corner of the couch, tugging a blanket around him. He felt suddenly cold.

 

The food came soon after, and the scents wafted through the flat, but instead of making Louis feel hungry, they made him feel sick. He watched as Niall ate with gusto, and he was glad that his friend knew not to pressure him to eat. He’d wake up around midnight and eat then. He just needed time.

 

“You wanna go to bed, Lou?” Niall asked eventually, the TV blaring some stupid ad about condoms in the background. Louis shook his head, despite the itchiness of his eyes. 

 

“Wh-what if she … comes back?” Louis stuttered, the fear from earlier starting to consume him once more, but Niall’s hand was on his arm, rubbing up and down softly, soothing him. 

 

“She’s not coming back. And if she does, she’ll have me to deal with. Please, you’ve got to get some rest, you have work tomorrow.”

 

Louis looked away from him, and Niall’s hand dropped from his arm. They stayed on the couch a while longer, and Louis felt his eyelids drooping and fought to stay awake, the terror eating him up inside, but his body gave into the exhaustion, and he slipped into darkness.

 

*

 

Louis was awoken by the smell of bacon. His stomach growled painfully, but he pulled his blankets closer to him, shivering even though it was warm in the main room. He shifted and winced, his neck and back aching. This is what he got for sleeping on the couch. He should have been used to it by now, though - he’d stayed on Niall’s couch more times than he could count in the time they’d known each other. 

 

The events from the night before had drained him. Even in his sleep, his dreams had been restless, waking him up every hour or so in a cold sweat, convinced someone was trying to break down the door and take him away.

 

After a little bit, Louis pushed himself into a sitting position, wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, and shuffled into the small kitchen. 

 

“Good morning, Lou!” Niall said cheerfully, filling a plate with eggs and bacon and toast. Louis nodded in thanks and took his plate to the tiny table in the corner. Niall joined him a few minutes later, his plate piled with twice the amount of food Louis’ had. Niall had always been one to indulge himself - it made for quite the fun night out on the town. 

 

“So … how are you?” Niall asked as he swallowed a mouthful of eggs. Louis shrugged, picking at his toast. As hungry as he was, he didn’t really feel like eating. His mind was a jumble of half formed sentences and painful recollections trying to push their way to the surface. He was determined not to drown in them.

 

“I’ve got work today, and then I was gonna go visit a friend at this place I know …” Niall began, watching Louis carefully. Louis stared back at him, waiting for the end of his sentence. He was pretty sure he knew where his friend was going with this. “My coworker was telling me about a new therapy program at one of the local treatment centers, and I thought maybe you’d want to check it out with me?”

 

Louis sighed. This wasn’t the first time Niall had suggested therapy. And Louis knew, deep down, that it would help. He would be able to talk, for want of a better term, about the demons that plagued him instead of locking it inside and suffering in his silence, and maybe he’d be free of them. But he couldn’t. 

 

Every therapist he’d been to since that night had treated him like he was something to be fixed, not something to be healed. In his mind, there was a difference. No one ever understood him. No one ever tried to help him communicate in his own way, insisting that their methods would work and forcing him to speak when he just couldn’t do it. It was torture, and Niall knew that. It didn’t stop him from suggesting it every few months, however.

 

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, picking at his eggs with a fork and eating a small mouthful. 

 

“Lou … I know that you haven’t had the best experience with therapists in the past, but this is a chance for you to get the right help. I just want you to be okay. I hate seeing you in this much pain. It’s fucking terrifying sometimes.”

 

Louis felt his heart sink. He hated that the person he now was scared other people. His pathetic attempts to survive and escape his past hurt his friends, and that knowledge pained Louis more than the memories. He never wanted to be a burden to anyone, least of all to Niall. Louis refused to look up, scared that Niall’s expression may break him down and make him change his mind. He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry. I understand. But we don’t have to sign up for anything if you don’t feel comfortable. I just want you to walk through with me. Can we do that?”

 

Louis took a deep breath and raised his gaze, meeting Niall’s soft blue eyes. He didn’t need to see the fear and the pleading in his eyes to know that he was only concerned for Louis’ own wellbeing. And if Niall was being honest, which he almost always was, this didn’t mean anything and there was no commitment. It was just a visit. Just walking down a few hallways with someone he trusted. That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 

 

“Okay.”

 

Niall’s smile eased the fear building in Louis’ chest, and Niall stood, collecting their plates and dumping them in the sink for later. Louis pulled the blanket back up where it had slipped from his shoulders. 

 

“Going to get a shower. Are you leaving?” Louis asked. 

 

Niall nodded, turning on the sink and starting to scrub the plates. “Yeah, I’ve got a short shift at the hospital today, and then I can come back and pick you up, if that’s alright.”

 

“Yeah. Thanks.” 

 

As Louis made his way back to the small bathroom, he congratulated himself - even with Niall, it was hard to speak full sentences sometimes, but he thought he’d done rather well this morning. Living here really was the best decision he could have ever made for himself. It was so rare that he felt anything other than a dull ache and a sense of floating along, not really here or there. The only thing that brought him back to Earth was happiness, or pain. And right now, he felt okay. He just hoped his good mood would last.

 

*

  
  


Louis made the best of his mood and cleaned. He cleaned his room and the kitchen and hoovered the main room and the hallway. He lit a vanilla scented candle and set it on his dresser, settling back on his bed with the book he’d been trying to finish for weeks. 

 

When the bell tower struck noon, Louis made his way to the kitchen and rifled through the fridge for the leftover Chinese from the night before, heating up his favorites and breathing in the sweet smell. He smiled as he heard the key in the lock, and moments later, Niall was in the kitchen, washing his hands and drying them on his purple scrub top. 

 

They ate together, cleaning out a majority of the many containers in a matter of minutes. Niall chatted away about his day, and Louis listened intently. If he’d had it his way, he would have loved to work at a hospital like Niall was. The thought of helping people made him feel like he had a purpose. But that was out of the question now. How was he meant to help others if he couldn’t even help himself?

 

“So … our appointment is in half an hour or so,” Niall said slowly, and Louis looked up quickly. He hadn’t forgotten, not by a long shot, but he’d managed to put his anxiety about it to the back of his mind for the morning. Now, however, he was going to have to face it head on. 

 

“Yeah, I know,” he whispered, twirling his fork in the last remains of his noodles. He hated that his stomach was in knots just from the mention of the place. He wasn’t sure he wanted to experience what it would be like to be there. 

 

Niall scooted his chair closer and put calming hands on Louis’ shoulders, pushing them down where Louis had hunched them in his tense state. Louis bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself not to cringe away from the warmth of Niall’s hands. As much as he knew Niall’s touch was safe and not one to be afraid of, it was still hard for Louis to shake off the memories of hands that had meant to hurt, to cause pain. “If you changed your mind, we don’t have to go. I only looked into it for you. It’s not a big deal, really.”

 

“No, I … I want to go. Want to try.”

 

Louis meant it. He was scared, yes, but his words were true. He was tired of being in a constant state of fear. If this could help, even a fraction, he was willing to try, especially since Niall had gone out of his way to set this up for him. He didn’t want to upset his friend. He owed him after last night.

 

“Alright then. I’ll drive!” Niall stood and began to clear the empty takeout containers from the table. Louis made his way slowly to his room, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring at the blank walls. He could do this. It wasn’t a commitment. It wasn’t a therapy session. It was just a walkthrough. 

 

“Just a walkthrough, just a walkthrough,” Louis mouthed the words to himself, hoping that his feigned confidence would drive away that nagging suspicion in the back of his head that something was going to go wrong. Then again, he’d had that feeling constantly for almost three years - maybe it didn’t mean anything this time. 

 

He stood, grabbed his jacket, and walked purposefully to the door, where Niall was waiting with his usual smile. Louis managed a small smile in return and followed Niall to his car. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

  
  


It took them fifteen minutes to reach the place, and Niall swiftly pulled into the last available parking space, turning the car off. Louis gripped his knees, his eyes darting around, trying to take everything in so he wouldn’t be caught off guard.

 

“Louis, it’s alright. It’s just a treatment center. Nothing to be afraid of. The doctors here are really nice.”

 

Louis nodded, swallowing the bile creeping up into his throat. He was fine. He was with Niall. He was safe. 

 

Niall got out of the car and Louis knew he had about five seconds to collect himself before Niall would be at his door, opening it and leading him into the unknown. 

 

The cold air hit him as he stepped out of the car. There weren’t many people around outside, but that didn’t make him feel any better. Niall had mentioned on the way over that they would be with a small group that was touring the facility, and being around people made him uneasy at the best of times. 

 

The two of them entered the building and immediately turned into the lift, heading up to the first floor to meet the doctor who would be showing them around. 

 

The ding of the lift reaching its destination brought Louis back from his wandering thoughts, and the fear set in almost at once. He could feel his hands trembling and shoved them into his pockets. He could feel Niall standing next to him, and tried to focus on that. Niall was here. He wasn’t alone. 

 

Niall headed over to a small desk, where a group of people had already congregated, surrounding a young man in a white coat. Louis kept mostly behind Niall, hiding himself away from the possible stares of the others. 

 

“Lou, relax. You’re gonna hurt yourself,” Niall whispered in his ear, and he felt light fingers on the back of his hand. Louis hadn’t even realized that his hand had slid out of his pocket and was now gripping tightly into the side of his leg. He released himself, counting the seconds in each breath he took just for something to focus on.

 

“Looks like we’ve got everyone, so let’s get started!”

 

The loudness of the doctor’s voice made Louis wince horribly, and he shrank back slightly, trying to make himself as small as possible. Niall’s hand landed carefully on his lower back then, but Louis pulled away. He knew Niall was just trying to comfort him, but he felt like he was being babied. He hated that. He could stand on his own just fine. He breathed deeply and focused back on the doctor, who was still speaking. 

 

“The name’s Dr. Taylor, and I’m going to be showing you all just a few of the types of treatments we do here. At the end of the session, if you feel like this might be the place for you, please come back to this desk and have a talk with my secretary here. Are we ready?”

 

There was a murmur of assent, and Louis shuffled after the crowd. The hallways were white and lit with harsh fluorescent lights, making Louis’ eyes hurt a little, but he kept his head down and watched his feet step over the patterned tiles.

 

The group came to a stop after making several turns, and Dr. Taylor turned to face them all, smiling. “This is the physical therapy area, where we take over any type of therapy a hospital might advise and continue it for as long as the person needs. We do charge a fee for our services, but there are many who prefer being here to being in a hospital. A lot of car crash victims and those born with muscular diseases take part in our program.”

 

Louis watched as one of the parents, who was pushing their daughter in a wheelchair, nodded, looking into the rooms as they walked slowly down the corridor. Louis felt like it was getting smaller the further he went, but he knew it was his mind playing tricks on him. He shook his head furiously, blinking hard until everything came back into normal focus. He noticed he’d fallen behind, but Niall had stayed with him, not at all oblivious to the fact that something wasn’t right. 

 

“You good, Lou?”

 

Louis nodded, hurrying to catch up. Niall trotted along in his wake until they reached the back of the group. Dr. Taylor was speaking again. 

 

“Our program for speech therapy isn’t widely known, but we do have some skilled professionals here who help children with speech impediments such as stutters, lisps, and muteness.”

 

Niall turned to him, smiling and nodding in Dr. Taylor’s direction, but Louis didn’t smile back. Dr. Taylor had said one of the things that annoyed Louis the most - he had referred to the problems only being present in children, as though someone older than the age of twelve couldn’t possibly have any problem of that sort. Needless to say, he nodded to show Niall that he had listened, and they continued on. 

 

A door to their left was pushed open and a few nurses came through, wheeling a bed along with them. The bed had crisp white sheets, folded down at the perfect angle, and it was gone in a second, but Louis felt like he was suspended in those few seconds. Dr. Taylor was speaking, but it sounded distant, like a whisper carried by the wind. 

 

_ The hospital was white, too white for his liking. White walls, white ceilings, white lights, white sheets. Louis felt trapped, but the doctors were bustling around him, muttering words to each other that he couldn’t quite catch in his shock. That’s what they’d said was wrong with him. He was in shock, but for what reason, he couldn’t quite remember. It was all a bit hazy right now. The only thing that felt real to him was Niall’s hand in his as they sat on the edge of the hospital bed together.   _

 

_ “We’ve got the others coming in now. Take them straight to the morgue,” one of the doctors said. Louis recognized him vaguely as the one who had met him at the ambulance.  _

 

_ Louis stood up, walking slowly towards the door. He wanted to see what was going on. Sitting still wasn’t working for him right now. For some reason, he felt like he should be running, but he couldn’t quite place why. The hallway was filled with people running back and forth. The doors at the end of the hallway were still open, blowing chilly air down the hallway and ruffling Louis’ hair. He could see something coming off the ambulance, something he hadn’t seen before. Maybe this was a different ambulance. _

 

_ “Son, you need to go back to your bed, please,” said one of the doctors, but Louis shook his head. He had a feeling that whatever or whoever they were bringing into the hospital had something to do with him, and he wanted to see.  _

 

_ Two white beds were wheeled past, but as they came level with Louis, they seemed to go by in slow motion. White sheets had been drawn up over two body-like shapes, but there was a hand hanging out from under one of them. The wrist had a watch on, one very similar to the one Louis’ mum had. The watch face was flecked with blood. _

 

_ It all came crashing in on him in painful detail, every moment, every scream, every loud bang, every filthy word. Louis staggered backwards, looking down at his own clothes, which were smeared with rusty red patches. Blood. But it wasn’t his.  _

 

“What’s wrong with him?”

 

“Is he alright?”

 

“Do I need to get someone?”

 

“Let me see him …”

 

The whispers reached Louis, and he wrenched his eyes open, dazzled by the brightness of the lights above him. There was a person kneeling in front of him, waving his hand slowly in front of his face. It took a few moments before he remembered what was happening. He was in a treatment facility with Niall. They were supposed to be checking out a highly recommended program for speech therapy. And then there had been the bed …

 

He wasn’t breathing, or if he was, it didn’t feel like he was getting any oxygen at all. Niall’s face floated into his vision. His mouth was moving, and Louis could make out his own name, but he couldn’t move. 

 

“Son, can you hear me? I need you to respond.”

 

“He can’t answer you. He’s mute, and he’s panicking. You need to back away from him, Doctor, I’m sorry. He only trusts me.”

 

Louis was so grateful to hear Niall’s voice. It was the only thing that was familiar to him right now. Everyone was staring at him now, concern and pity etched in their gazes, and he wanted away from it all. He didn’t want to be here anymore. 

 

“N-N-” Louis tried, but he couldn’t get his friend’s name out. Luckily, Niall understood him. 

 

“I’m gonna take him home. Thanks for the great tour, Dr. Taylor.” 

There was some shuffling as people moved away, but Louis still felt like he was surrounded, cornered.  

 

“Louis, mate, come back to me,” Niall whispered, pressing a soft hand to Louis’ cheek. Louis pulled away quickly, a small whimper escaping his throat as his memories threatened to engulf him. “Gonna get you out of here, don’t worry. You’re safe.”

 

The next thing Louis was aware of, he was in Niall’s car, in the back seat. Niall was sitting across from him, looking a little nervous but putting on a brave face. He was waiting to see if Louis could tell him what happened. It was something he’d done ever since Louis’ had lost his ability to speak properly. He never pushed Louis, never forced him into anything. He waited. He had the patience of a saint, Louis thought. 

 

“Are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself when you collapsed, did you?”

 

Collapsed? Louis didn’t remember that at all, but then again, he never really did remember when he fainted.

 

“D-did I … umm,” Louis mumbled, the words barely making a sound in the silence of the car. 

 

“One minute, you were standing, the next, you were on the floor. I couldn’t wake you up, not for anything. I thought … god, Lou, you scared the shit out of me.” Niall’s voice cracked, breaking the bravado facade, and Louis felt his bottom lip wobble. 

 

“Bed … the bed …” Louis tried to say more. He wanted to explain to Niall what he’d seen, what he’d remembered, but he couldn’t. Even three years later, the mere thought of that night, of any part of it, was impossible for him to talk about. Niall’s face softened as he ran a hand through his hair. 

 

“Oh, Lou … I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Can I … do you want a hug?”

 

Louis wanted one. He wanted to curl up in Niall’s arms and let his emotions out. He wanted to sob and fall apart and let himself feel the true extent of his losses. But he couldn’t do that. He just couldn’t bear the thought of burdening Niall with his pain, even if Niall had been there through it all. It felt like he’d be taking advantage of his best friend’s kindness, and that was one thing he would never do. 

 

“Louis, please stop overthinking. It’s okay if you want me to just drive us home. We can have a night in, or you can go to bed if you’d like.”

 

Louis nodded at that. Home was good. Home was safe. He curled in on himself, hugging his knees to his chest, and Niall sighed, opening his door and stepping out just to slide into the driver’s seat. 

 

“Maybe this wasn’t the place. There are others out there. Maybe we can try again?” Niall’s eyes caught Louis’ in the rearview mirror, and Louis shrugged. In his mind, however, he was thinking only one thing: No. Never again.

 

When they arrived back at their apartment, Louis went straight to his room and closed the door behind him. He crawled into his bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. He stared at his wall, at the painting of Orion’s Belt and his one small picture. He reached out and touched his mother’s face. She had always been the most beautiful person Louis had ever known. He just wished she were here. Nothing else could make his pain go away. Nothing. 

 

*

  
  
  


The sun woke Louis up for the third time that week, but he kept his eyes closed, savoring the ray of warmth for just a few more moments before getting up to face the day. 

 

It had been almost a week since the treatment center fiasco, but Louis hadn’t spoken a word since then. Every night, he was plagued with nightmares, the scene from the hospital that night playing over and over until he had no air left and no will to be alive. He’d called out of work for most of the week - or rather, Niall had called out for him, but Carol was understanding as always.

 

But today felt different already. He’d had a dreamless sleep and been woken up by the sun, which was a rarity in it of itself where he lived. His chest didn’t feel like an elephant was sitting on it today. His head was clear. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time, and it was far past time for him to escape the mess that was his room and do something. He felt restless, something he hadn’t experienced much in the last three years, and he was determined to make the most of it. 

 

Niall had already left for work, but Louis found a plate of food in the microwave with a sticky note with Niall’s neat handwriting on it, just like every other morning this week. It said that Niall would be home late, and Louis smiled, settling down to eat his breakfast. And while he ate, he planned. 

  
  


By noon, Louis was ready. He had cleaned out his entire room and done all his laundry, sheets and duvet included. The apartment now smelled like Dettol and vanilla, a strange but comforting scent, at least to Louis. He’d made himself lunch - yeah, it had been a measly cheese toasty and some soup, but he was proud. Most times, he burned any food he tried to make. 

 

Louis didn’t venture out much by himself, unless he was going to work. But today, he was headed to the nearest Tesco, fully intending to prepare Niall the best dinner he’d ever had. He was just glad Niall had left him the car for today - he didn’t much feel like walking. 

 

He pulled into the car park and got out of the car, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck as the bitter wind blew freezing rain into his face. Hurrying inside, he accepted a trolley from a sweet older woman leaving the store and made his way through the aisles. 

 

Paused in front of the cold meats section, he observed the different types of ground beef they had, finally settling on the regular one. He didn’t think it would matter to Niall whether the meat was organic or not, and he certainly didn’t have the extra quid to spend on the more expensive meat. 

 

Louis meandered his trolley through a crowd of shoppers, feeling the anxiety pressing against his chest a little, but he emerged fine on the other side, took a deep breath, and continued on to the pasta section. Here, he knew he was bound to be overwhelmed. There were more choices than he knew what to do with, and Niall brought home a different “favorite pasta” each week. Louis let his fingers trail over the many boxes, reading the types and looking at the shape. 

 

Finally, he just stepped back, planning to pick one at random and hope for the best, when he spotted the one he wanted. Fortunately, there were plenty left. Unfortunately, it was on the top shelf.

 

Leaving his trolley off to the side of the aisle, Louis pressed his lips together and stood on his tip toes, reaching for the box of fettuccine. His fingers just barely brushed the front of the box, and he huffed, frustrated. 

 

“Hi, sir, can I help you reach that?”

 

Louis whipped his head around and saw an employee walking towards him, the fake smile of all retail workers plastered on his rather pimply face. He was four inches taller than Louis, however, and he had no doubt that this man could reach the top shelf. He nodded and stepped back, accepting the boxes of pasta with a barely audible thank you. 

 

“Anything else?” the man asked. Louis shook his head, offering him a small smile, and the employee began to walk away, but stopped, turning slowly to face Louis again. “Wait … don’t I know you from somewhere?”

 

Louis was confused, but shook his head again. The employee wagged his finger at thin air, clearly thinking hard. 

 

“Yeah, I’m almost sure - I think I’ve seen you on TV before.”

 

Louis’ heart sank right down into his stomach, his throat tightening automatically. He turned away quickly, grabbing his trolley and depositing the pasta into it, pushing himself into the crowd of shoppers once more. Everything in him was telling him to run home, keep his face out of sight, and never come shopping alone again, but he stopped himself as he escaped into the bread aisle, taking several deep breaths. He was here for Niall. He needed to finish his shopping first. It was unlikely that, seeing how he’d practically sprinted away from the employee, that he would be bothered by him again. It was just his luck that someone would recognize him from a three year old news story, but he couldn’t think about that now. Or ever, preferably. 

 

He made quick work of the shopping from that point on, only stopping to consider for a few seconds before picking up the rest of the ingredients and paying for his things. 

 

When he was finally back inside his flat, he leaned against the door, feeling the tension that had creeped into his shoulders dissipate. He was home now, that’s all that mattered. And he had about four hours to prepare dinner for Niall - just enough time to fuck it up twice and get it right on the third go.

 

The smell of seasoned meat and tomato sauce had filled the entire apartment by the time Louis heard Niall’s key in the lock. He heard the door open and close, and he held his breath, stirring the boiling pasta as he waited for Niall to say something. 

 

“Holy fuck, that smells amazing! Lou, where are you?”

 

“Kitchen,” Louis said back. He wasn’t sure if he’d said it loud enough, but Niall’s first stop was the kitchen anyway, so he’d find him just fine. 

 

Niall’s head poked into the kitchen, and Louis actually smiled widely as he saw a look of pure ecstasy filter over his friend’s face. “You’re cooking … and I don’t smell anything burning. Where is this coming from, eh?”

 

Louis blushed, not quite used to compliments, even though what Niall had said could barely constitute as one. “Umm, I made you dinner.”

 

Niall beamed, shrugging off his coat and sitting down at the table, running his hands through his hair. “Louis, you are a gift from the gods, I swear. I was just gonna order take out and sit on the couch, but this … thank you. This means so much, you don’t even know. It’s the perfect way to end the day.”

 

Louis’ face was now a delicate shade of scarlet, he could feel how enflamed his cheeks were at Niall’s praise, but if he was being honest, he was proud of himself too. 

 

He strained the meat and the pasta and mixed it all together in the big pot, doling out two heaping platefuls and sitting across from Niall. “I just w-wanted to apologize.”

 

Niall’s smile vanished and he stopped moving, his forkful of pasta inches from his mouth. “Louis no, you don’t have to do that …”

 

Louis shook his head. “I do. I s-scared you. And I haven’t been t-talking. I’m sorry.”

 

Niall put his fork down and stood up, coming around to Louis’ side of the table and holding his arms out. Louis stood, accepting the hug and letting his head fall onto Niall’s shoulder. He never let anyone hug him, not even Carol. But sometimes, he just liked the feeling of someone’s arms around him, comforting him. 

 

“You are amazing and you cooked and you’re talking and I’m so fucking proud of you, yeah?” Niall’s words went straight to Louis’ heart, making him feel all warm on the inside. “You never have to apologize for hurting, okay? I just want you to feel safe and happy.”

 

“I don’t deserve you,” Louis whispered against Niall’s chest, and Niall pulled away from him, his face serious. 

 

“You deserve a lot better than me, Lou. But since I’m what you’ve got, I’m gonna make the best of it. Now,” he sat down and picked up his fork. Louis did the same, a smile coming back to his face now as Niall’s enthusiasm overwhelmed him. “It’s time to eat.”

 

*

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to work?”

 

Louis rolled his eyes as he pulled his red shirt and tan pants on and tightened his belt. “Yes. I’m sure.”

 

“Alright. Just … you know how to reach me if you need me.”

 

Niall’s voice was soft, reassuring as it always was, and Louis nodded, smiling at his friend. 

 

“I know. Thank you.”

 

Niall kicked his feet up on the coffee table and pulled a blanket over his legs, flicking through the comedies on Netflix. “I’ll see you in a few hours, then. Have fun, and say hi to Carol for me. Yee haw, Yankee boy!”

 

Louis chuckled and made his way down to his car, turning over the engine and pulling into the oncoming traffic. 

 

Louis had been working at the Yankee Diner for the last two years. It had been extremely hard for him to find a job after what had happened, considering that he could rarely speak to people, which was a requirement of most jobs. Carol, however, had been welcoming and very nearly pushed the job on Louis after she’d found out that he needed one. Carol had been friends with Louis’ mother before Louis had been born. She’d been there through Louis’ first steps and his first day of school - she was like the aunt he’d deserved. 

 

Carol made sure that Louis had tasks that didn’t require much interaction with customers. He bussed the tables and washed the dishes, and even served refills of coffee if anyone wanted. Lately, she had gotten him used to doing the register - in the last six months, he’d been able to have some small conversations with her, and she thought it might help to have to speak in small doses to other people. It worked, for the most part. Some days, he just wasn’t up to it, but she was pretty good at telling what he could manage on any given day. He was lucky to have someone like her in his life. 

 

When he slipped through the kitchen and tied his apron on over his uniform, he found the counter packed with people. Friday nights were always busy, and today was no exception. He waved at Carol, who was standing by the counter taking an order, and she smiled, holding up her finger to him. Louis waited, brushing his hands down the crisp white fabric on his front, his eyes darting around. None of the usual bullies seemed to be here tonight. Maybe it would actually be a quiet one. 

 

“Oh, Lou, it’s so good to see you back. How’re you feeling?” 

 

“I’m okay,” Louis said softly, and Carol’s smile widened, clearly happy to hear his voice. 

 

“It’s gonna be a busy one, but I figured I’d have you on refill and cleaning duty tonight, if that’s alright with you. Lots of people tends to get a bit overwhelming.”

 

Louis sighed with relief and nodded, inwardly grateful. He wasn’t quite ready to deal with a load of people just yet. A quiet night of cleaning and making customers happy was definitely something he was ready for. 

 

“Well, let’s get started then! That table in the corner needs more soda and water, and the three by the door need to be cleaned. See ya on the other side, love.” 

 

Carol strode away to deal with a rowdy table, and Louis tucked a bucket under his arm, making his way to the dirty tables. Tonight would be good. He just had a feeling. 

  
  


Five hours went by incredibly fast, and by the time Louis had a chance to stop and breathe, it was almost the end of his shift. The clean tables were nearly sparkling and the few customers they had were contently drinking their late night caffeine fix at the counter, chatting quietly. 

 

“What a night, eh?” Carol said, coming up next to him and wiping her brow with her apron. Louis nodded, scanning the remaining customers. His eyes caught on someone at the end of the bar, someone he’d never seen before. Carol must have seen him looking, because she smirked and nudged him. “That’s Harry. He’s new. Said he heard about this place from a friend of a friend and decided to check it out.”

 

Louis nodded again, but he wasn’t really listening. He was taking in the new guy - the way he sat, the way he drank, the way he moved. His head was bowed, studying the torn paperback book intensely, and every so often, he would lift a hand to brush his curly hair out of his eyes. His fingers were long and nimble, and a ring glinted on his middle finger. Louis watched as he reached for his cup, lifting his head to take a sip. Bright green eyes met his own briefly and Louis looked away quickly. He hadn’t meant to stare. He’d just gotten a bit lost in the details, that’s all. 

 

“Handsome one, isn’t he,” Carol insisted, nudging him again, and Louis rolled his eyes, flicking the end of his wet cloth in her direction. She laughed. “Looks like he might need some more coffee. I think I can count on you to get him some while I just … pop to the back for a mo?”

 

Louis felt all the color drain from his face, but he nodded, watching Carol walk away. He knew she was just teasing him, but at the same time, she’d just put him in the worst possible position - this guy seemed like the type to start a conversation with anyone, and Louis didn’t think he’d be able to get a single word out if he had to stare into those beautiful eyes while trying to talk. Needless to say, he had a job to do. 

 

He picked up the coffee pot and walked towards the end of the counter, feeling like he was walking down a very long tunnel. And then he just stood there like an idiot until the guy looked up. And there were those eyes again, big, green, dazzling doe eyes, looking at Louis curiously. 

 

“Can I help you?” 

 

His voice was deep, very deep, like melted chocolate, and Louis felt his knees go weak. He tried to think of something to say, he really did. Three years ago, some sharp witted comment would have been out of his mouth before anyone could even register what was happening. Now? Nothing. 

 

Louis held out the coffee pot wordlessly, hoping that would be enough. Harry - now he finally remembered his name - smiled, a dimple popping in his left cheek. 

 

“I’d love some more, thank you! But, umm … this is decaf, and I had regular.”

 

Louis felt his face flush, realizing his mistake too late. Who the hell ordered decaf these days anyway, especially someone his own age? At least, he assumed Harry was eighteen. He opened his mouth, intent on apologizing, but an all too familiar voice interrupted his attempt. 

 

“Don’t bother, new kid. Little Louis is a mute. He couldn’t speak to you even if he wanted to, isn’t that right, Lewis?”

 

Louis snapped his mouth shut, drawing away from the counter as the usual crowd of boys gathered around, smirking and just waiting for their self-proclaimed leader, a beefy boy by the name of Vince, to lay down a few more insults. 

 

Harry was looking at Louis, and Louis just shook his head, defeated. Harry gave him a small smile. “Hey, I’m gonna head to the loo … but when I get back, we can see about that coffee, yeah?”

 

Louis nodded miserably and watched Harry walk away, wishing more than anything that Harry wouldn’t have to see what was surely coming. 

 

Vince leaned across the counter, snagging a finger under Louis’ apron and making him stumble. Louis felt sick, and his mind raced, trying to figure out what to do to protect himself, but he had nothing. He had never been able to stand up to these guys. “So … working off that funeral bill, I see. What it must have cost to bury your family, I can’t even imagine.”

 

Louis’ lip trembled and he yanked himself free of Vince’s grip, backing away with the coffee pot still clutched in his hand. He felt his breaths coming shorter and shorter, but none of the customers were doing anything to stop it. They never did. Louis always felt like he was some sort of entertainment for them. He wished Carol would hurry back.

 

He heard the noise before he saw what happened, but that didn’t give him enough time to catch himself. He heard glass breaking, spilling the remains of a strawberry milkshake onto the tiles behind the counter, and Louis’ foot hit it at just the right angle. He went crashing down, landing hard on his tailbone and losing the coffee pot, which broke as well, sending hot coffee everywhere. 

 

Louis tried to scoot away, but his hands landed in a pile of broken glass and he gasped as several slivers sliced into his skin. He pulled himself up by the back counter and backed himself into a corner, having nowhere else to go. He felt tears sliding down his cheeks, and he hated himself for crying, but he was terrified. They were never this mean. A few insults here and there was the usual, and he could take that most of the time, but today was different. The insults ran deeper, and Louis could feel his chest constricting as Vince leered at him. 

 

“What a fucking waste, this guy. I don’t know why we bother, mate,” said one of Vince’s friends. Vince shrugged. 

 

“Because he can’t say anything back. It makes it twice the fun.” Vince turned his dark eyes back on Louis, and Louis cowered away, wishing he could just disappear into the ground. “You’re pathetic, Lewis. Bet your mummy would be so disappointed in you - she raised a wimp.”

 

Louis whimpered, his chest aching as he fought to breathe through his panic attack. He hated their words, he hated that they could get to him. He just wanted it to stop. 

 

“Here - a parting gift from your old friend.”

 

Louis felt something cold and wet hit his face, the leftover chocolate ice cream dripping down his neck. 

 

“What the fuck do you guys think you’re doing?”

 

Louis looked up, wiping the milkshake out of his eyes, and saw Harry standing there, looking absolutely furious. 

 

“None of your business, new guy. Just giving Lewis here what he deserves,” Vince said with a wave in Louis’ direction. Harry moved forward into their space, and it was only then that Louis realized how tall he was. He could feel his mind going fuzzy from his inability to breathe, and his hand flew to his chest. He winced, pulling his hand away to see blood. His stomach churned, but he ignored the pain in his hands, trying to do the rubbing thing that Niall always tried on him when they were at home. But he couldn’t do it right, and his hands were aching. He slid down the back counter, gasping, silent tears still streaming down his cheeks. 

 

“You don’t have any right to treat him that way. He’s just trying to do his job, and you’re being a couple of heartless pricks. Just get out of here.”

 

Louis watched through blurry eyes as Vince and Harry stared each other down, and Louis was almost certain that Vince was going to punch Harry right in the face. But, to his surprise, Vince and his buddies moved around Harry and left, the door swinging closed with a familiar tinkle of the bell. 

 

It was then that Louis really fell apart. For some reason, he always held back until he was relatively alone, and then it would all just hit him at once. He slumped against the cabinet behind the counter, his legs twitching as he tried to get proper air into his lungs.

 

The counter lifted in front of him and someone was crouching down by his legs. “Hey … you alright?”

 

Harry’s soft, deep voice echoed in Louis’ mind, the words bouncing back and forth until he finally comprehended what he’d said. He didn’t know how to answer, though. He wanted to say that he was fine, that Harry shouldn’t be behind the counter anyway, but he couldn’t. And he would be lying. 

 

“God, your hands …”

 

Louis pulled his injured hands closer to him, not wanting Harry to fuss. He felt pressure on his calf then and tore his leg away from Harry’s gentle touch, shaking and wishing he could just stop panicking long enough to get away. 

 

“Oh, god, sorry, you don’t want to be touched. I’m so sorry, I should have asked. Umm…” Harry brushed his hair out of his face, his cheeks red, and Louis found himself, again, focusing on the small details - the mole on Harry’s cheek, the streaks of brighter green among the darker color, the concern in the lines on Harry’s forehead. He felt his breathing ease up, which was confusing, but he wasn’t complaining. “Can I get someone?”

 

Louis gestured vaguely at the kitchen, but at that moment, Carol appeared, her smile dropping off her face immediately as she took in the disaster of her diner. Harry stood quickly, brushing off his jeans. 

 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be back here. It’s just … these boys, they came in here and they were torturing him … I just wanted to help. I’m sorry, I’ll just -”

 

“Nonsense, love. Thank you for stopping them. Normally they don’t go this far if I’m up front. Thank you for helping Louis.”

 

Louis looked away from both of them, trying to wipe the tears off his face. He was enough of a mess as it was. He didn’t want or need Harry to see him like this, though why he cared about what Harry thought so much, he didn’t know.

 

He could still hear Harry and Carol conversing as they cleaned up the mess, and as hard as he tried to ignore them, he couldn’t. He could hear every word. 

 

“Does he … I mean to say, is Louis …”

 

“He’s alright. I’ve called his roommate to come get him.” Carol’s reply, while kind, was short, and Louis was somewhat glad for it. People always asked what kind of disease he had, and Carol had since started cutting people off before they could even get started. 

 

“But will he be okay? He seemed so terrified, especially of me when I tried to … to …” Harry’s voice faded, and Louis could hear the pity in his tone. Or was it pity? This seemed a lot less empty than pity. Either way, it hurt to hear. 

 

“Louis isn’t scared of you, love. He just isn’t good with people touching him. You did everything right. I appreciate it.”

 

Louis felt fresh tears brimming in his eyes at Carol’s words, and then the door to the diner swung open so hard, it hit the window behind it with a bang. 

 

“Lou, are you here? Carol, where is he?” Niall’s voice echoed in the nearly empty diner, and Carol gestured for him to come behind the counter. Louis braced himself for another wave of embarrassment.

 

Niall’s face appeared around the counter and Niall knelt down, ignoring the coffee that was now soaking through the knees of his jeans. Louis curled in tighter on himself as Niall’s round blue eyes met his. 

 

“Louis, it’s me. It’s Niall. Can I come closer?”

 

Louis nodded, both wanting Niall to hold him and wanting to be as far away from other human beings as possible. His mind was a mess of conflicting emotions and desires, but he knew he could trust that voice and the person attached to it. 

 

Louis felt the heat from Niall’s body as he crawled right up next to him, and he turned his gaze to Niall, blinking the tears away. Niall lifted the rag from Louis’ apron and reached forward carefully, wiping the remnants of the milkshake off of his cheeks and neck. Louis sniffed, overwhelmed with the gentleness of the gesture. 

 

“Let’s go home, yeah? Get your hands fixed up and get a shower and some sleep.”

 

Louis hung his head, hating himself. He was a fucking disaster. This once peaceful establishment had been turned into a warzone and it was all his fault. All because he couldn’t find the right words to tell those idiots to fuck off. All because he was so broken and no one was willing to help him heal, instead insisting on making his life worse. It was his fault. His life, his brokenness, the loss of his family. Everything. And there was nothing he could do about any of it. 

 

*

 

_ “Louis, love, dinner’s on the table!” _

 

_ Louis grinned and slapped his laptop shut with his foot, already breathing in the smell of something spicy coming from the kitchen. His mum had been really into trying new things lately, and this month, it was exotic cooking. Not that he minded - most of the stuff was pretty good, and she wasn’t a total disaster in the kitchen like he was.  _

 

_ He thundered down the stairs and skidded into the kitchen almost running his mum over in his haste.  _

 

_ “Watch where you’re going, Lou. Don’t wanna have us both on our arses, do ya?” _

 

_ “Of course not, Mum. Did you call Victoria?” _

 

_ “I’ll go up and get her in a second. That fever is really keeping her exhausted, but I think some food will do her good.” _

 

_ “Or just clear her sinuses,” Louis mumbled under his breath, and his mum smacked him with a tea towel.  _

 

_ “Hush, you. Go get your plate ready, and get one ready for Wayne. He should be home any minute.” _

  
  


_ Louis went about the kitchen, pulling two plates from the stack in the cupboard and filling them with a delicious assortment of rice, roasted veggies, and diced meat. “Mum, this smells amazing, what is it?” _

 

_ “Oh, just something special I whipped up. I went a bit off recipe …” _

 

_ “As always,” Louis countered, and his mum smiled, taking the plates from Louis’ hands and setting them on the table.  _

 

_ “Actually, could you go up and get your sister? It’s your step-father on the phone.” She held up her cell, and Louis nodded, making his way into the hallway and up the stairs.  _

 

_ He stopped in front of a very glittery door - his sister had thought it was a good idea to use all her nail polish and make the door prettier when she was five, and it had stayed that way ever since. He found it endearing, even though his mum had had him on his hands and knees with her trying to scrub it off for days.  _

 

_ “Vic, it’s Louis. Can I come in?” Louis called, and moments later, the door swung open to reveal his sister. Her brown hair was a mess around her face and shoulders and her skin was pale, other than two pink patches high on her cheeks. “Oh, love, you don’t look so good. You feeling any better?” _ __  
  


_ “Feel like shit, honestly,” Victoria grumbled, and Louis gasped, putting his hand over her mouth.  _

 

_ “Language, Vic. Mum would have my arse if she heard you talking like that.” _

 

_ Victoria laughed, and the laugh turned into a cough. Louis put a gentle hand on his sister’s back until she was done. She pouted, plopping down on the floor with her arms crossed. “Do I have to go down for dinner?” _

 

_ “Mum made something special for you, come on,” Louis coaxed, and Victoria rolled her eyes, pulling on her dressing gown reluctantly.  _

 

_ “Yeah, I can smell it all the way up here.” _

 

_ Louis chuckled and took his sister’s hand, leading her down the stairs. She was 13, old enough to do most things by herself, but she secretly adored her brother, something that Louis took full advantage of when they were in the house. Outside, Vic pretended like she didn’t even know him. Typical teenage behavior.  _

 

_ They re-entered the kitchen and sat down at the table, joined only a moment later by their mum, who was looking stressed.  _

 

_ “Wayne isn’t going to make it for dinner,” she said slowly, and Louis’ heart sunk. He knew what that meant.  _

 

_ “Again? Mum, really …” he started, but she shushed him kindly.  _

 

_ “It’s just a few drinks with friends. A business deal. He said he’ll have one and then he’ll be home.” _

 

_ Louis wanted to protest more, but he kept his mouth shut, digging into his food. Victoria had no idea about what Wayne was really like, and there was no way Louis was going to ruin the illusion that his mum had set up. But he knew. He knew how Wayne got when he drank. One turned into five, which turned into ten, which turned into him coming home in a blind rage and hurting his mum, and sometimes him, if he got in the way.  _

 

_ But there was nothing to be done for it. His mum didn’t make enough money to leave him and sustain all three of them, and Louis wasn’t quite old enough to get a proper job to help out. So they just did what they had to do, and would continue doing so until they could escape.  _

 

_ They ate their dinner in relative silence, soft music playing in the background, and then Louis convinced Vic to help with the dishes, despite her drooping eyes. He may have promised her ice cream the next day, but that was beside the point.  _

 

_ Finally, it was getting late, too late for Louis to be up, and he said goodnight to his mum, helping a sleepy Victoria up to her room. He had just tucked her in when there was a loud noise from downstairs. Vic jumped, her eyes wide, and Louis swallowed his fear.  _

 

_ “Lou, is he gonna hurt Mum again?” Vic whispered, and Louis sucked in a breath. His sister clearly wasn’t as oblivious as they might have hoped.  _

 

_ “I don’t think so, love. I hope not. But I’ll text Niall to come over for a bit just in case. He usually just goes to his study if we have company.” _

 

_ “I wanna be with her. He wouldn’t hurt me,” Vic said defiantly, and though Louis hesitated, he knew he’d never convince her otherwise.  _

 

_ “Alright. Let’s go. Come on, love, up you get.” _

 

_ They crept down the stairs as the front door opened and closed. The smell of booze wafted up the last few stairs, nearly choking Louis.  _

 

_ “Laura, where are you?” Wayne roared, and Louis felt Victoria cower into his chest. He shushed her and they moved silently to the bottom of the stairs, heading around the long way through the den. Louis knew that his mum would still be in the kitchen, preparing a dinner for Wayne.  _

 

_ They reached the back door to the kitchen and eased it open, both peering through. Their mum was there, just setting a plate of food down on the table, when Wayne came bursting through the swinging door, nearly knocking pictures off the wall.  _

 

_ “Hi, honey. I made you dinner, if you’d like to eat.” She didn’t sound scared, but Louis knew she was just putting on a brave face. He’d held her while she cried too often as of late.  _

 

_ Wayne stared at the plate and then knocked it to the ground, the contents sliding across the floor amid the broken glass. “I don’t want your fucking food. I want my wife to do as she’s told.” _

 

_ “I just thought …” _

 

_ “Well, you thought wrong!” _

  
  


Louis sat bolt upright in bed, clutching at his blankets tightly. He gasped out a few breaths, looking around the room and momentarily forgetting where he was.

 

There was a shuffling sound next to him and he closed his eyes, sure that Wayne was here, waiting to ambush him.

 

“Lou? Everything alright, mate?”

 

Louis relaxed, sinking back into his pillows, which were sweat damp from his nightmare. He felt like he was going to be sick.

 

The bed sank next to him and Louis turned to look at Niall. Niall, who had taken to sleeping in the chair next to Louis’ bed for the last two weeks. His night terrors had returned after the diner incident, and despite Louis’ protests that he could take care of himself, Niall wouldn’t budge. 

 

“Was it the same as before?”

 

Louis shook his head. Surprisingly, he rarely had the same nightmare twice. It was just bits and pieces of the same night, randomly put together until it all came to the same end. Every time, no matter what he tried to do to help or wake himself up, the ending was always the same.

 

Wayne’s face floated to the forefront of his mind - his cruel scowl, his wild eyes, his ruddy face. 

 

Niall just managed to get the bin under his chin as he vomited, the memories causing a wave of sickness to wash over him. He felt Niall’s hand rubbing gently on his back as he choked and spluttered, trying to get a breath in before the next wave came. 

 

It felt like hours, but it was just a few agonizing minutes, until he was finally done. He wiped his mouth clumsily on his sleeve and looked up at Niall, trying to form an apology. Niall just shook his head, putting the bin on the floor and pulling Louis close to him. 

 

“It’s alright. Don’t apologize. I’m here for you, yeah? You don’t have to hold back with me, you know that.”

 

“I … j-just …” Louis stuttered, feeling defeated, but Niall shushed him kindly and rocked him back and forth.

 

“What happened to you would have sent any other person in this world, myself included, into total insanity. But you’re so strong and brave and you’re here and you’re fighting every fucking day, and I am proud to be your best friend. They would be proud too.”

 

Louis sniffed, huffing out a breath against Niall’s chest. They sat there for a while, Louis glancing at the clock every now and then. It was almost gone five in the morning. He’d slept for at least four hours this time. It was an improvement.

 

“Hey … since we’re up, I might as well make us some breakfast. And I brought home something for you.”

 

Niall sat up and let Louis go, and Louis, after convincing himself to get up and out of bed, followed his friend curiously to the kitchen, where they set to work toasting Pop-Tarts - a breakfast of champions, if Louis did say so himself. 

 

Niall finally joined him at the table with a packet in his hand, looking a little nervous. Louis bit into his Pop-Tart, waiting. 

 

“So, I was talking to a friend of mine at work. His name is Liam, and he works at the hospital with me, part time. The other half of the time, he’s working at a place called Hope Trust.”

 

Louis’ hands froze in the act of reaching for another piece of Pop-Tart. He knew that place - his mum had volunteered there every day. Louis sat there, lost in thought, remembering the nice wood panelled hallways of the abandoned building turned therapy center. It had always felt safe, and Louis made it his stomping grounds whenever his mum couldn’t leave him at home. The memory of that caused his chest to tighten in a most peculiar way - it was half pain and half nostalgia.  

 

Niall handed over the packet face down. “I was doing some research, and I found out about this new program they’re launching within the company.”

 

Louis didn’t touch it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. The place had been safe once, but he had been a healthy, normal kid at the time. Now, he was nothing short of a disaster. He should have known this would come up sooner or later. In the last month, he’d gone from sleeping eight hours a night, going to work five days a week, and only having a few panic attacks a week to passing out, panicking constantly, and hardly sleeping at all. He was a mess and he knew it, but he didn’t want to hear about more therapy programs that would never work for him, even if they were connected in some obscure way to the person he missed most of all.

 

“Louis, please, just listen, alright? I’m not asking you to go anywhere, I just want to tell you what I found out.” 

 

Louis looked up at Niall’s pleading eyes and caved. He couldn’t say no to Niall, not after what he’d been putting him through lately. He sighed and took another bite of a Pop-Tart.

 

“Okay … thank you. So, I went over to Hope Trust just to see what I could find out, and, well, I found this.” He gestured at the packet. Louis extended his hand to touch it, but didn’t flip it over. “It’s a special program they started in honor of one of their volunteers. She gave so much to the organization that, when she died, they started working on a program in her name. They called it The Blue Jay Program for Traumatic Therapy. It’s meant to target specific types of speech impediments, all brought on by traumatic events.”

 

Louis was listening now, his eyes focused solely on Niall as he talked. For once, he wasn’t horrified at the sound of this program It seemed - different, in a way, but it was still therapy. It was still something that Louis had found no progress or healing in, and he was still wary and untrusting. 

 

“The, uh, the program, which Liam runs, will start their first official session in a week’s time. They’ve hired doctors specifically for every type of issue they could think of, but the rest of the workers are volunteers. Just … look at the packet, if you want. It seems reputable, and I really trust Liam - he’s one of the best doctors I know. If there was anyone I’d trust to help you, it would be him.”

 

Louis turned the packet over in his hands, staring down at the simple, yet striking logo that decorated the front page. The outline of the bird was blue, like a blue jay, and the words “Blue Jay Program” were embossed across it in neat black letters. The picture made Louis feel slightly calm - if anything, it was good advertising. 

 

“I’ve gotta get to work. I’ll be back this afternoon. You give that a read.” Niall stood, touched Louis’ shoulder briefly, and left the kitchen. The door to the flat closed minutes later, leaving Louis in silence. 

 

Louis flipped through the pages, skimming the articles and the bios of the doctors. It seemed quite nice, actually, at least, compared to every other place Louis had ever been. The descriptions of the different classes and sessions were well thought out and covered a range of speech issues, including one specific session for psychogenic mutism in teens and adults. 

 

Louis got to the last page, and felt his heart stop. There in shining ink was a picture of a woman, her blue eyes striking even in print. Underneath the picture was a small paragraph in quotes.

 

**“I came up with the idea of the program years ago, but even now, it’s only a concept. I noticed from my other work that many issues with speech in both kids and adults were ignored, and I wanted to change that. Every single person deserves a place they can go that treats them like a human being while also helping them overcome their difficulties. I want to put smiles on faces. I want to hear the voices of children who have never spoken. I want the people who think their words don’t matter to be heard and be appreciated. One day, I’ll make it happen.”**

 

Louis bit his lip, tears filling his eyes rapidly as he read those words. He could hear it in her voice. He could see her saying it. He remembered her writing pages and pages of research out, working on it only in her spare time. He wiped his eyes and read the last words on the page.

 

**The Blue Jay Program for Traumatic Therapy was started in honor of Laura Tomlinson - a great volunteer, a loving mother, and an honorable friend. May she rest in peace.**

 

Louis put his head down on the table, his sobs shaking his body, and he just sat there, feeling the hole her death had left more deeply than he had in ages. He wanted to do this, he wanted to believe in his mum’s words and take the plunge, but he couldn’t force himself to say yes, even to himself. He had every other experience stacked up against this one. Nothing would make those go away, not even her.

 

Louis stood, his eyes feeling swollen, and picked up the packet, folding it so that his mum’s face and statement were showing. He stuck it on the fridge, just below the takeout menus. Even if he couldn’t make her proud, at least he could see her face every day. 

  
  
  


Louis went through the rest of the week as usual. His night terrors continued, but were decreasing, and he hadn’t been sick the last two nights. Niall had finally gone back to sleeping in his room, which Louis appreciated. He hated being an inconvenience. 

 

He also went to work, despite the horrific happenings of his last shift. The boys didn’t come in again, but neither did Louis’ savior, Harry. Louis had been hoping to thank him, or at least give him a free cup of coffee. He had a feeling he’d never see him again.

 

Niall didn’t say a word about the program since the morning he’d brought it up, and yet Louis couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every time he went to get food or wash the dishes or get a glass of water, there was his mother’s picture and her vision for The Blue Jay Program. Even when Louis wasn’t thinking about it, it was in the back of his mind. 

 

He knew his mother had been loved at Hope Trust. That was evident in the way he was treated when he had gone there. Everyone had looked to her as though she were the leader, even though she had only been a volunteer. If they had made her dream a reality, Louis thought, they wouldn’t have done it without making sure that her vision was followed exactly. That settled strangely with Louis - not inviting, but not something he rejected either. 

 

“Lou, I’m home!” Niall called as he entered the flat, and Louis jolted out of his daze. He had been staring at the fridge again, at his mother. He’d accidentally made a habit of it now. Niall came bounding into the kitchen, rifling through the takeout menus until he settled on one. “How does pizza sound tonight? I was thinking one plain for you, one with the works for me, how does that sound?”

 

“I want to do it.”

 

Niall’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t think we’re talking about pizza, are we?”

 

Louis shook his head, pointing at the packet pinned to the fridge. “I want to do it.”

 

“Really?” Niall sounded skeptical, but not in a mean way, and Louis understood. For him, this was completely out of character. But he nodded firmly. 

 

“For her. I want to do this for her. And Vic.”

 

He waited with bated breath for Niall to say something. Instead, Niall walked over and pulled him into a gentle hug, pressing his lips to Louis’ hair. 

 

“Then let’s do it. For Laura and Vic. And for you, Louis.”

 

Louis nodded in agreement. That night, he went to sleep with a smile on his face, nervous, but excited, for the days to come. 

 

*

  
  


“You ready, Lou?”

 

Niall’s voice seemed to come to him from a long way away, and Louis blinked, coming back from his thoughts. Niall was eyeing him expectantly, waiting, patient as always, for an answer to come. 

 

“I … I think I am. Yes.” 

 

He nodded firmly, trying to convince himself as well as Niall, and Niall turned the car off, the sound of the engine disappearing and leaving the silence all the more crushing. Every negative thought and feeling Louis had had over the last week about this program and this place and what might happen while they were here hit him at once, nearly knocking the breath out of him. 

 

Louis took a deep breath in and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He’d taken to keeping his mother’s picture and words with him at all times, just so he had a reminder of who he was doing this for. Sometimes, he felt like he didn’t deserve to get better, and if he ever had a day like that, he would make sure he had some reason for doing what he was about to do. 

 

He stepped out of the car with Niall and looked up at the familiar building. The windows of the bottom floor were plastered with posters and flyers for different programs and fun game nights, all courtesy of the lovely volunteers at Hope Trust. It didn’t resemble a hospital or a correction facility - it actually reminded Louis of his own building, and that made him feel better. 

 

The door swung open as a mom and her son came through, and Louis hurried to hold it for them. Yeah, maybe he was fucked in the head and couldn’t talk most of the time, but he hadn’t lost his kindness or need to make people feel their best even on their worst days. 

 

Louis walked through the door and into the main lobby area, where a large seating area took up most of the space. There was a desk on either side, one leading to the larger part of the building, where most of the therapy took place, and one with the logo of The Blue Jay Program above it. 

 

“Hi, we’re here to see Liam Payne? He’s gonna give us a tour,” Niall said to the girl behind the desk, and she smiled, braces glinting on her teeth. Louis felt himself smile at that - he remembered sitting behind that very desk when it was his mum’s turn to fill in as the secretary. 

 

“He’s on his way, actually. Yeah, there he is now!” she said, pointing down the hallway. Sure enough, a man in a white coat was making his way towards them. Louis swallowed hard, trying not to let the memories of every other doctor he’d ever met ruin this one before he’d even met him. If Niall was friends with him, he couldn’t be a bad person. Louis had to remember that. 

 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Niall said to the girl, grinning and embracing Liam as he reached them. “Liam! So good to see you, mate!”

 

“Likewise. It’s been crazy here today, I only just got away. Anything for you, though, my friend.” 

 

Louis stood awkwardly by the desk, feeling more and more anxious by the second. He was starting to doubt himself and his decision to come here, and Liam hadn’t even said a word to him yet. He pressed his hand into his pocket, letting his fingers brush the picture.  _ For her. _ He was doing this for her. In her memory.

 

“Liam, I’d like you to meet Louis. He’s my flatmate. Louis, this is Liam Payne, accredited Speech Therapist and one of my very best friends.”

 

Louis looked up and offered a weak smile, to which Liam smiled in return, holding out his hand for a handshake. Niall stepped forward, opening his mouth to say something, but Louis surprised even himself by taking Liam’s hand in his and shaking it firmly. He wondered for a moment if his mum was there with him, lending him the strength to do this.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Louis. Any particular reason you’re interested in this program, or is this just a courtesy visit?”

 

Louis opened his mouth, ready to tell Liam why he was here. But no words came out - there were so many people around, so many new faces that were ready to judge him for whatever he did or said, good or bad. His throat felt like it was swollen shut, and he closed his lips, shaking his head at himself. Thankfully, Niall came to the rescue. 

 

“Louis is, umm, he’s a psychogenic mute.”

 

Liam nodded in complete understanding, now studying Louis carefully. Louis felt like he was under a microscope and tried to make himself as small as possible without actually curling into a ball on the floor. 

 

“Any particular trauma that caused this, or has he always been mute?” Liam was talking to Niall now, clearly understanding that Louis wasn’t in any place to be able to speak, but he was still making eye contact with Louis every now and then, as though to make sure Louis knew he was included in the conversation and welcome to jump in at any time if he found himself able to. Louis really appreciated that, and resolved to tell Liam that, if he ever could. 

 

“Uh …” Niall looked around, making sure that no one was within earshot, and then sighed. “This is Laura Tomlinson’s son.”

 

Louis felt like he’d been sucker punched as his mother’s name rang in his ears. Liam’s eyes grew wide, and he looked over his shoulder, where Louis’ mum’s picture was hanging, directly behind the desk. Louis hadn’t noticed it before. It brought tears to his eyes. 

 

“Oh my god … Louis, I … I’m so sorry,” Liam said finally, and Louis just shrugged. He was far too used to hearing that from people. But when Liam said it, it sounded genuine, not full of the fake sympathy that usually came with those words. That alone made some of the pressure in his chest dissipate. 

 

“We just wanted to have a look around, maybe hear about the types of programs you might have within this project,” Niall said quickly, wanting to move on from the awkward silence that had fallen between them. Liam nodded firmly, and fixed his eyes back on Louis. Louis, for once, wanted to listen, and he raised his head, locking eyes with him. 

 

“We have a doctor here for any speech impediment you can think of. Most of them are friends of mine that I went to uni with. We have two doctors that focus on psychogenic mutism, one for children, and one for adults. I can take you to meet them, if you’d like.”

 

Louis nodded slowly, knowing he probably wasn’t in a position to argue. The thought of meeting more new people, of possibly being surrounded by hundreds of eyes, however, was making him feel a bit nauseous. 

 

“Excellent! Follow me, and I’ll show you both around.”

 

Louis followed Liam and Niall down a wide corridor and up a flight of stairs to the second floor. Liam talked as they walked, which kept Louis from thinking about anything that might cause him to make a run for it. 

 

“Most of the operations for The Blue Jay Program happen on the second floor. We took it over once the project launched. Every doctor has his or her or their own office, and usually meets one on one with our patrons.”

 

Louis made note of how carefully Liam spoke about the program - how he called the people who attended patrons instead of patients. It made it sound less formal, and Louis liked that. He liked feeling like he was wanted there, instead of being just one more person to get out of the way.

 

They emerged onto the second floor, which showed another large common space surrounded by a number of doors, each decorated differently and bearing the name of the doctor. A few people milled around the main room, waiting for their sessions, while volunteers in their blue t-shirts moved from room to room seamlessly, carrying paperwork and escorting patrons and their parents and friends. 

 

“Here we are! Louis, this is Tom, one of our speech therapists who specializes in psychogenic mutism in adults. Tom, this is a possible new patron. His name is Louis.”

 

Tom smiled jovially down at Louis, and Louis found himself wanting to smile back. Tom seemed warm and friendly, and though his badge clearly stated that he was indeed a doctor, he was dressed casually in jeans and a blue button up. 

 

“Hi, Louis. It’s very nice to meet you. You’re actually the fourth person I’ve met today, so it might make you feel better to know that you’re not alone. I’ve actually gotta dash because I’m late for lunch with my husband, but I’ll be here the rest of the week if you decide you’d like to try a session with me. It was good to meet you!”

 

Tom hurried off towards the stairs, pressing his phone to his ear. Louis watched him go, his mind racing. He had been ready to see this place as just another therapy shithole where people like him went to be picked apart and fixed for an unreasonable sum of money. He had been ready to hate it and return home, as he’d done time and time again. But for some strange reason - maybe it had to do with his mum founding the idea, or maybe it didn’t, he wasn’t sure - he felt almost comfortable here. He felt himself starting to relax, the tension he’d been holding in his neck and shoulders subsiding slightly as he moved his gaze over the expanse of the area. 

 

“Hey, Liam, I wondered if I could have a word with you upstairs? One of the parents has a question, and I figured you’d have the answer,” said a deep voice, and Louis whipped his head around, hardly daring to believe it. Standing next to Liam was a familiar figure, and Louis’ heart did a backflip. He rubbed his hands together, feeling the remains of the scabs on his hands from where the broken glass had cut into his palms all those nights ago. 

 

“Yeah, of course. Let me just finish up here.”

 

Liam turned and started speaking to them, but Louis wasn’t paying attention in the slightest, because at that moment, a pair of bright green eyes met his, and Louis found that he couldn’t look away. 

 

Harry stood there, his blue shirt setting off his eyes nicely, his mouth open in surprise as he studied Louis. 

 

“Hi, Louis.”

 

Louis felt a blush creeping into his cheeks at Harry’s deep voice saying his name, and he forced himself to look away from the pools of green. He wanted to say something, anything. He wanted to say hi. He wanted to say thank you for saving him at the diner. He wanted to apologize for scaring him, because he was sure that Harry had been quite terrified of his reactions. He wanted to say that he found Harry’s hair pretty. None of those were going to happen - Louis doubted any of those things would have come out of his mouth even if he wasn’t mute. Harry’s mere existence confused his mind and his heart so much, and this was only the second time he’d ever seen him. 

 

He felt Niall’s hand on his elbow and started, finally turning away from Harry to face his best friend. 

 

“We can go now, if you want, Lou, or we can have a look around,” Niall offered, and Louis considered for a moment. He really did want to go home. The floor was starting to fill as doctors came out of sessions and more patrons turned up for new sessions, and it was getting to be a bit much. But on the other hand, he didn’t want to leave quite yet - there was something, or someone, both very interesting and very confusing, that Louis wanted to observe a bit more. 

 

He finally gestured lamely at the room, which Niall understood perfectly, and they walked off together, leaving Liam and Harry behind. 

  
  
  


*

 

**> H <**

  
  


Harry drummed his fingers on the table as he waited for Liam. Work had kept them busy, but they always had a drink and a bite to eat on Tuesday nights. It was the one time during the week they could step out of work mode and just be mates. Harry didn’t know what he’d do without it, honestly. 

 

As he waited, his thoughts turned, as they had often done in recent days, to Louis, the blue-eyed boy with a voice Harry was dying to hear. He’d only seen him twice, and both times, he’d looked like a cornered animal. Any other person would have probably put him right out of their mind, but not Harry. 

 

There was something about Louis that Harry couldn’t get out of his head. He was captivating - his eyes told of a special kind of brokenness that Harry had only ever seen in movies, and it both scared and intrigued him. And, of course, he was fucking beautiful. Everything about him, from his fluffy hair and bright blue gaze down to his exposed ankles and battered converse made Harry’s heart beat twice as fast. He didn’t even know him, but he felt like he did. 

 

“Earth to Harry!”

 

Harry looked up and grinned as Liam took a seat opposite him, waving down a waiter and ordering them their usual drinks. Harry flipped idly through the menu, even though he got the same thing every time.

 

“What had you in such deep thought, there, H?” Liam asked, his eyes studying Harry’s face. 

 

“Oh … oh, nothing. Just thinking about work today.”

 

“You mean thinking about Louis, don’t you?”

 

Nothing ever got past Liam. Harry should have known that, or at least anticipated it. There was nothing he could hide from Liam. He shrugged, however, trying to pass it off as a mere thought instead of an intense consideration. 

 

“Not exactly. He’s just … fascinating, that’s all. I have so many questions, and I only know his first name. It’s weird.”

 

“Doesn’t surprise me. But how do you even know him? I’d never even met him before today, just heard about him nearly every day of my life from Niall.”

 

Harry considered lying. He wasn’t sure if his and Louis’ first meeting was a story he wanted to share. That wasn’t exactly true, though - he wanted to talk about it, he just wasn’t sure if Louis would want him to. It was strange that he was considering Louis’ feelings. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. But it was ready to burst out of him, so he decided to go for it. 

 

“Well, remember that diner you recommended to me through Niall? Well, I went. And Louis works there.”

 

Liam nodded, thanking the waiter as he came by with their drinks. They ordered, and Liam took a sip of his, nodding in approval, before turning back to Harry. 

 

“That doesn’t seem so bad.”

 

Harry shook his head. “That’s not all. He … well, these guys came in and started harassing him, and then they tripped him and threw leftover food at him and it was horrible. He had cuts all over his hands and he was panicking, and I tried to help him and he sobbed trying to get away from me. He was so scared, Li. And that whole time, he didn’t utter a word. It was almost like he couldn’t.”

 

Harry studied Liam’s face. Liam looked a bit startled at the story, but it was mixed with resignation, as though he’d been expecting something of the sort. 

 

“Louis is a psychogenic mute. He … it came about through trauma,” Liam said, stopping as if that was all he had to say, but Harry could tell he was holding something back. 

 

“I just don’t get it. I wanted to help. I barely even touched him, and he was acting like I had a gun to his head.” He saw Liam visibly wince at those words, and his eyebrows creased. “What?”

 

Liam pressed his lips together, as though unsure how much he could say. He leaned in, and Harry followed his lead, waiting. 

 

“Umm … he’s Laura’s son.”

 

Harry’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. Suddenly, everything made sense - the tensing at loud noises, the panic attacks, the mutism, everything. Harry’s heart broke just that much more as he sat back in his seat, stunned and feeling slightly sick. 

 

“Oh god. Liam … really?”

 

Liam nodded grimly, taking a measured gulp of his drink. Harry followed suit, needing a refresher after such a bombshell. “Niall didn’t even tell me till today, but I think he had to - I wouldn’t have understood the severity of Louis’ case if he hadn’t. He needs help, H. Careful, measured help. According to Niall, he hasn’t seen a therapist since the first month after Laura’s death. He can’t - no one really knows what to do for him. Niall said the last time he went to a facility to look around, he fainted.”

 

Harry thought he understood, in a roundabout way. He could only imagine what it would be like to lose his family that way, and he’d read about the deaths of Laura and Victoria Tomlinson in the paper when it had happened. He hadn’t read the paper for a year after that, and that was the year that he decided to start volunteering. To carry that around with you - knowing that you had lost the most important people in your life, and being unable to express it in words? Harry would never have survived it. He didn’t know how Louis did it - it made his heart ache. 

 

“It must be hard for him to be places that remind him of … of what happened. Hospitals, facilities, stuff like that. He probably wasn’t given proper time to grieve.”

 

Liam nodded, and Harry could see the sadness in his eyes. Liam rarely showed his emotions, especially for patrons or patients, but this was different. This was Louis Tomlinson - the sole survivor of the Tomlinson murders. It was much bigger than anything either of them had ever encountered. “Niall thought he might feel safer working with our program, because it’s in Laura’s honor. And we’ve got Tom, one of the best psychogenic mutism therapists in the country. If anyone can help Louis, it’s Tom.”

 

“Yeah …” 

 

Their food arrived, and as Harry took a large bite of his salad, he felt a wave of protectiveness over Louis. He wanted to help him - he wanted to be someone that made Louis feel safe. He didn’t even know him, and by previous experience, Louis didn’t want to be anywhere near him, but maybe he was like that with everyone. Maybe Harry just needed to gain his trust. 

 

The rest of dinner, they talked about other things - where Harry was thinking of going for Uni once he finally decided what he wanted to do, what Liam was gonna do with his girlfriend when he eventually had a weekend off, the usual. Anything but work. But Harry’s mind was only half focused on that. The rest of him was thinking about Louis.

 

*

 

**> L <**

 

Louis was nervous. He hadn’t been nervous all week, which was a surprise to him, but now that it was the night before his first official session with Tom at The Blue Jay Program, all of that nervousness came crashing down on him at once. 

 

Niall had made his famous pasta and pesto, but Louis had only been able to manage a few bites of it, not feeling very hungry. Niall had eaten his fill as usual, but it was punctuated by worried glances at Louis. Louis tried to focus his mind on something else - the Christmas movie they were watching, for instance, but not even Buddy the Elf could distract him from what was to come the next day. 

 

Finally, Niall just paused the movie, studying Louis. Louis didn’t want to talk about it, he really didn’t. But the whole point of him going to this was to help him talk about it. Maybe starting here was a good idea. 

 

“You feeling alright?” Niall asked, and Louis shrugged. 

 

“Nervous.”

 

“I know. But you agreeing to do this is a big step. You should be proud of yourself. I know I am.”

 

Louis swallowed. “What if … if I can’t …” He struggled, not knowing exactly what he wanted to say. What if he couldn’t work with Tom? What if he couldn’t make his voice work? What if he was too broken to make any progress? There were so many questions and so many unknown answers that it made his head spin. 

 

“Louis.”

 

He felt Niall’s hand on his arm and he flinched, but didn’t pull away. He needed something to ground him right now. He raised his gaze to look at Niall. The one person he trusted completely and entirely. 

 

“I’d tell you there’s nothing to be scared of, but that would be a lie. There’s so much to be scared of, but you’re doing it. And I’ll be right there if you need me.”

 

“Thank you,” Louis sighed, putting his head on Niall’s shoulder. He appreciated how up front Niall was about this, about everything, really. He never made things out to be easier than they were. People tended to baby him - they assumed that because he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t understand. But not Niall. It meant a lot to Louis that his best friend treated him like an adult. 

 

Niall ruffled his hair and picked up the remote. “Anytime, mate. Now, how about we get back to the four main food groups, eh?”

  
  


They finished the movie, laughing at the more stupid parts. It felt good to laugh - it had been so long since Louis had laughed, even if his laugh was mostly silent now. It made him feel lighter, and the nerves had started to peel away, one layer at a time. 

 

Louis was just finishing up brushing his teeth and was making his way towards the kitchen for a water when he heard a knock on the door, and Niall’s feet on the wooden floor as he went to answer it. 

 

“Where is my nephew? You have no right to keep him hidden away from me, I’ll call the police, get them involved in this **.** ” 

 

Louis froze just around the corner from the main room, his heart in his throat. How could she be here again? Would she come in after him? What was he supposed to do? He put a hand on his chest to give him a focus and breathed deeply like Niall taught him to. He calmed down just in time to hear Niall speak. 

 

“And you have no right to be here. Louis is eighteen - he’s an adult, and he makes his own choices. He didn’t want to be with you. Doesn’t that say enough?”

 

“Family should stay with family, not with their faggot friends in shitty flats.”

 

“Don’t you fucking dare use that word. Louis is here and he’s staying here. There’s nothing you can do. He’s here of his own free will and there’s nothing the police could do for you.”

 

“I’m better for him! He’s safer with family.”

 

“He hated you. And he’s getting the help he deserves now, no thanks to you. You never gave a fuck about him or his needs or wants. Guess what? I do. Now get the fuck away from my flat before I call the police.”

 

Louis stood there, shaking, as his aunt uttered a few more choice words and the door slammed shut. He peered around the corner, seeing Niall leaning against the door, rubbing his fingers into his temples. He hurried towards him, nearly smashing him into the door as he hugged his best friend. Niall staggered but wrapped his arms around Louis, and Louis breathed deeply against his chest, tears in his eyes.

 

“Thank you. For saying that.”

 

The words were muffled against Niall’s shoulder, but Louis knew he’d heard him - Niall’s arms tightened around him for a moment before he let go. Louis wiped his tears with his sleeve, but he was smiling. He really did have the best friend in the world. 

 

“I’m never letting her get to you ever again. Never.”

 

Louis sniffed and nodded gratefully, getting the water he had intended to get earlier. Niall waited for him, watching and listening at the door. Louis only heard Niall go to bed a little later, once Louis was in his room and the door was shut. He lay back in his bed, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before turning to his side and closing his eyes. Tomorrow would come, but he wasn’t nervous anymore. At least, for now.

 

*

 

“Alright, Louis, you’re doing great! I need you to hum for me one more time, hold it for four seconds.”

 

Louis could feel his fingertips digging into his own thigh as he tried to find something else to concentrate on other than his anxiety. He took in a few short breaths, determined, and made a quiet humming sound low in his throat. Four seconds seemed like forever, but when Tom’s smile widened, he knew he could stop. 

 

“That was fantastic! You’ve really got the hang of this. I’m proud of you.”

 

Louis felt a little awkward at Tom’s praise, but he supposed Tom was like this with everyone - encouraging and warm and friendly. Despite that, he felt proud of himself. The exercises he’d done today were more exertion on his vocal chords than he’d had in the last year alone, and the fact that he wasn’t curled up in the corner of the room silently begging for someone to help him boded well. 

 

He finally nodded in response to Tom, giving him a small smile that Tom reciprocated easily. Tom looked at his watch and then jotted something down on his notepad. “Well, our hour is up for the day. You’ve done really well. I want you to practice these exercises at home, alone or with Niall, if you prefer. They will help get your vocal chords used to being active again.”

 

Louis nodded again and Tom rose from his chair, going to the door and holding it open for him. He got to his feet, clearing his throat a little and wishing he had some water. His throat felt raw. 

 

“I’ll see you next week, Louis. Thank you for coming today.”

 

_ Thank you for everything, Tom _ , Louis thought as he walked away, wishing more than anything that he could say it to him. This was the first therapy session he’d ever been to that he hadn’t hated. This was the first time he felt like he might actually make some progress. He wondered if Tom had made the connection between him and the sponsor of the program, or if Liam had told him. Either way, Tom didn’t treat him like he was a china doll, and Louis appreciated that. His issue was being considered seriously, and Louis couldn’t think of something he’d wanted more than that over the last three years - to be understood.

 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he ran right into another body. He ricocheted off and nearly fell, but he caught himself on the back of a chair. He looked up and saw a pair of familiar green eyes staring back at him, startled. 

 

“I’m so sorry … oh, hi, Louis. I was hoping I’d see you again! I trust your session went well?”

 

Louis just stared at him, unsure of how to respond. Harry was smiling, a dimple forming a near crater in his left cheek. His hair was in his face, as it always seemed to be, which Harry probably found annoying, but Louis found endearing. He felt his face heat up and he looked away, aware that Harry was still talking. 

 

“I’ve been volunteering for three years now, but I always get excited when someone new comes to Hope Trust. It means they trust someone other than themselves to help sort through whatever ails them. It means something, that people come here to be healed. And now, with The Blue Jay Program, I’m just - I’m in awe of Liam, of how well he did with this. It’s going to help so many people.”

 

Louis liked Harry’s voice. It was deep, but some words got higher pitched when he got excited. He spoke slowly, as though considering every word, and the speed of his speech didn’t make Louis anxious. If anything, it relaxed him. 

 

He felt a swooping sensation somewhere around his stomach and pressed his hand to it, completely thrown. He’d never felt anything like that before. Then again, he’d never met anyone like Harry before. 

 

“Oh, hey, are you alright?”

 

Louis looked up just in time to see Harry moving closer, a hand stretched out as though to touch his shoulder. He preemptively winced, and Harry pulled his hand back at once, looking a bit ashamed. 

 

“Right … you don’t like to be touched. I’m sorry. I’ll remember that. I’m a very touchy person, that’s all. I often forget that not everyone is like me in that respect.”

 

He was still smiling. Louis didn’t understand how someone could be so happy all the time, but he liked it. He never wanted Harry to stop smiling. 

 

“But, umm … you know, physical contact can also be healing, in a way. You can feel that someone is right there with you, helping you, trying to understand you through touch. I think you’ll gain that back, with trust.”

 

Louis raised his eyebrows, feeling like that was a pretty big assumption for Harry to make, considering they barely knew each other. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Harry, whose smile dipped slightly. 

 

“I … I didn’t mean to assume … that is to say … god, I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”

 

Louis just stood there, wishing that it was in his power to reach out and comfort Harry. He never wanted to touch anyone, other than Niall. What was going on with him today?

 

“I guess … you could take it one step at a time. Even something as small as a pinky could be a place to start. One pinky at a time … I like that, actually.”

 

Louis felt the beginnings of a smile on his lips. Harry talked way too much for his own good, but for someone like Louis, it worked in his favor.

 

“Louis, there you are! Oh, hey, Harry. Nice to see you again!”

 

Louis let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding, and turned towards Niall. Niall had obviously just come from work - he was still wearing his scrubs, and he looked a bit frazzled, but Louis was just glad to see him.

 

Niall and Harry engaged for a few moments, and Louis faded into the background, now suddenly ready to get home. Being around Harry made him feel strange things, and he just wanted to be alone to figure them out. 

 

“C’mon, Lou, let’s get going. We’ve got some good takeout to order. Just have to decide which of the fifty menus we’re ordering off tonight. See you later, Harry!”

 

“Bye, Niall. Bye, Louis.” Louis heard the change in Harry’s voice - he sounded almost softer when he said his name. It made his stomach do the swooping thing again. He hurried along with Niall, and they walked down the stairs to the exit. 

 

“So … you and Harry are friends now?” Niall asked, a bit of a teasing edge to his voice. 

 

Louis blushed furiously. “I … umm, not … I don’t …” he whispered, trying to figure out exactly what he wanted to say, but nothing came to him. He sighed in defeat and Niall smirked.

 

“No worries. Was just asking. Fuck, it’s cold out, let’s go.”

 

*

  
  


“Hey, Lou. Looks like your friend is here,” Carol whispered in Louis’ ear. Louis jumped, not expecting her to be right behind him, and she put a gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder briefly before reaching around him to get the coffee pot. 

 

Louis looked up and saw Harry settling down at the end of the bar. His heart was beating just a little too fast for comfort, and he shook his head, turning away from Harry and wiping the counter he’d been working on for the past ten minutes. 

 

It had been almost a week since Louis had last seen Harry, but he’d been thinking about him every day. Even Niall could tell that something was different - he’d mentioned a couple times how he seemed to be a bit more with it, happier. Louis wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

Louis had secretly been hoping to see Harry again. He’d picked up extra night shifts for that specific purpose, though no one else had to know that. And here he was, reading yet another tattered paperback book and looking up every few seconds. 

 

“I think he just might want some coffee,” Carol said, coming up behind him again to replace the coffee pot. “So why don’t you just take him some and stop ogling him.”

 

Louis spluttered silently, his cheeks flaming, but Carol just smirked and headed back into the kitchen. 

 

Louis did not understand why he should be so nervous about giving someone a cup of coffee. He’d been doing it all night, and a good many nights before this. But something in him was telling him that this wasn’t just anyone. 

 

It took him another minute of yelling at himself in his head before he finally just bit his lip, picked up the coffee and a cup, and walked over to the end of the bar, stopping in front of Harry. Harry looked up and he smiled. His eyes were sparkling today, a lighter green than usual, and Louis nearly dropped the cup as he began to fill it. 

 

“Thanks, Louis. Looks amazing.”

 

Louis nodded quickly, wanting to get away before he did something stupid, but Harry cleared his throat and Louis found himself turning back. 

 

“Umm … can I have cream and sugar, please?”

 

Louis put the coffee pot down with a clatter, starling the other customers in his haste to get Harry what he’d asked for. He could feel their eyes on him and he felt a little sick - this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. He was supposed to be more composed than this. 

 

He handed over a few creamers and the sugar bowl, grimacing as Harry ladeled heaping spoonfuls of sugar into his cup, stirring contentedly. Harry looked up then and smirked. 

 

“What, you don’t like sugar?”

 

_ Of course not! Who the fuck puts sugar in anything? _ Louis wanted to say, but he just shook his head. Even with his exercises from Tom, which he’d been practicing in the mirror every morning, he just couldn’t make himself talk, even though he so badly wanted to. He had a feeling that he and Harry would have gone on for hours if he could still speak normally. 

 

“God, I love sugar. It makes things sweeter and who doesn’t love that?” Harry said with a little laugh, and there it was again. That swooping feeling in Louis’ stomach that seemed to present itself whenever Harry was in spitting distance. Louis ignored it, his eyes moving towards Harry’s book as Harry continued talking. “I couldn’t drink coffee if I didn’t have sugar. And I can’t read a book if I don’t have coffee. It’s a thing, like … books and coffee, they just go, you know? And pastries, they’re always ‘round out a good reading session. I kind of always dreamed of opening a bookstore bakery - a place where people could just sit and read for hours and get baked goods and have coffee brought to them. I think people would come, don’t you? Louis?”

 

Louis started, having lost himself in trying to read the page of Harry’s book upside down, and he felt his cheeks burn. He felt a bit guilty that he hadn’t been really listening to Harry, but Harry didn’t seem to mind. He lifted his book to display the cover, looking curiously at Louis with those big green eyes. “Have you ever read Harry Potter?”

 

Louis had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He had practically grown up with Harry Potter. He’d read the series so often, the books were practically falling apart at the seams. He could name the book and the context from one sentence without looking. There was no one in their secondary school that knew Harry Potter better than he did. But the way Harry was looking at him now made him feel strange … it was almost like Harry was waiting for him to say no, as if he had a whole conversation planned around Louis’ answer to this question. Louis finally shook his head, and Harry’s gasp of shock nearly made him laugh. 

 

“Oh, Louis … you’ve got to read them. They’re the best books, I can’t even explain to you how much I love them, or we’ll be here all night.”

 

Louis smiled - he could relate to that, or he could have when he was fifteen. If someone had gotten him started, he could have gone on for hours about character development and plot devices. He wanted more than anything to be sitting on the other side of this counter with Harry, talking about the decision to put Hermione with Ron instead of Harry, and how it affected the entire story. But he couldn’t. He was here, working and unable to get so much as one syllable out in front of Harry, and Harry probably didn’t want to do that, anyway. 

 

“You … do you want to borrow my copy? I’ve got another set at home,” Harry said quickly, closing the book and pushing it across the counter towards Louis. He caught it, letting his fingers slide over the familiar picture on the cover. He looked back up at Harry, who was smiling softly at him, almost admiring him. “You can keep it on one condition - you give me a full report on it when you’re done, yeah? I have to know if my recommendation was worth anything.”

 

Louis found himself smiling, a genuine smile, not a forced one, and he nodded, holding the book close to his chest. Harry beamed at him and downed the rest of his coffee. 

 

“Think I’ll have another, if you don’t mind, Lou,” he said, and Louis didn’t miss the use of the nickname. It made him feel warm inside. 

 

He got Harry his coffee and more cream and sugar and then retreated to the other side of the diner, wiping up the tables and replacing the sugar packets. Every so often, though, he found himself glancing over at Harry, who always seemed to look away just a second before. 

 

“He’s easy on the eyes, isn’t he?” Carol asked him later, when everyone else had left and Harry was the only one at the counter. Louis shrugged, but everything inside him was dying to just sit and talk about how endlessly fascinating Harry was. “You like him, don’t you?”

 

Louis shook his head furiously - he definitely didn’t like Harry, not like that. He couldn’t. He didn’t even know what liking someone felt like. He never had the chance to find out before his whole life changed, and he hadn’t given the idea much effort for the last three years. Falling for someone was the last thing on his mind. 

 

Carol, on the other hand, seemed to take his no as a yes. “Don’t worry. I think he likes you too. He came in the other day when you were off and asked about you. He said he’d been hoping to have another chat with the charming lad behind the counter.”

 

Louis felt his face go beet red as he stole another glance at Harry. This time, Harry didn’t look away, and gave him a little wave. Louis waved nervously back. Maybe Carol wasn’t so far off.

  
  


When he finally got home, it was late and he could hear Niall’s snores coming from his room, the door ajar. Louis settled in his own room and stripped down to nothing but his boxers. He held Harry’s copy of Harry Potter gingerly on his lap, thinking hard. The idea came to him almost instantly, and he stood up, snatching a pen and some pink sticky notes from his desk. He hadn’t been this excited to do anything in a very long time. Harry wanted an essay, and an essay he was going to get. 

 

*

 

Over the next few weeks, Louis started to notice a change in himself. He smiled more. He didn’t feel like he was sitting under thousands of bricks every morning. He slept through most nights and had fewer panic attacks. Niall had noticed too - he’d managed to drag Louis out to get a Christmas tree, a real one. 

 

“This fake one of yours looks centuries old,” Niall had complained as they scoured the lot for a good tree. “It’s time we celebrate properly, with a real tree.”

 

Louis had taken to carrying Harry’s book with him ever since that night in the diner. He hadn’t seen Harry in a while, but he made sure to have the book, just in case. He got ridiculously excited whenever he looked at the book and saw his little notes sticking out everywhere. 

 

It was his third session with Tom that week, and Louis came out of it smiling. He’d managed to make the vowel sounds today, with a lot of persuasion, and he knew that was a big step. Tom didn’t scare him, not in the slightest, but he was still a relative stranger. He was very good at, while making Louis comfortable, keeping that line very clear between doctor and patient, and Louis wasn’t sure how comfortable he felt talking in front of him just yet. But this was a step in the right direction, and he knew once he told Niall, they’d spend the night eating Louis’ favorite foods and watching National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation for the sixth time.

 

Tom held the door open for him as he always did, and Louis gave him smile as he left, making a beeline for his favorite chair. It was a big squishy one that he loved to sink into - the perfect place to just settle down and read a book. But as he approached the chair, he saw there was already someone sitting in it.

 

Louis opened his mouth to say Harry’s name, but it was like someone had swooped down and stolen his voice box. Not a sound came out, and so much of his pride whooshed out of him, leaving him feeling a little flat. He tapped Harry on the shoulder instead, and Harry looked up, his trademark dimple popping into existence as he saw Louis. 

 

“Louis, hi! It’s been a bit, hasn’t it? How are you?”

 

Louis shrugged, and Harry stood so they were face to face. Louis suddenly remembered Harry’s book, and his excitement came back slightly. He dug around in his bag and produced the battered book, handing it to Harry with the nerves swirling in his stomach. He’d thought his joke was pretty clever, but now he wasn’t so sure. 

 

“Oh god, you’ve finished it! And you left me notes, that’s so sweet!” Harry exclaimed, and Louis only winced slightly at the volume of his voice. Harry had opened the book already and was scanning some of the longer notes, nodding along. As Louis watched, however, Harry’s smile started to waver until he stood there, his expression completely serious. Louis felt suddenly breathless as Harry looked up at him, and he waited for Harry’s harsh words, his body already preparing for an anxiety attack. 

 

Harry surprised him by laughing, his nose all crinkled up and his eyes shut tight. Louis stood there, dumbfounded, trying to work out where he’d gone wrong. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he took a few steps back. Harry’s eyes flew open and he automatically reached out to pull Louis back, but he clenched his hand into a fist, pulling it away just as quickly. 

 

“No, Lou, don’t go. I didn’t mean … I just … you’ve already read this, haven’t you? A good many times, by the looks of it.”

 

Louis nodded, suddenly feeling a bit shy, and he tucked his chin to his chest so Harry wouldn’t see him blushing. 

 

“Says here you used to go on rants about how much Harry and Hermione should have been together, though you couldn’t know that if you hadn’t read them all … I’d love to rant with you about that sometime.”

 

Louis smiled, but it was wistful. What Harry was asking of him, even though he was probably completely unaware that he’d said anything wrong, was impossible. Louis doubted if he’d ever hold a real conversation again, much less one where he got excited. But Harry wanting that made his heart do backflips, and he wanted very much to reach out and touch the back of Harry’s hand. He wondered if his skin was as soft as it looked. 

 

He caught Harry’s eye and blushed, embarrassed at his own thoughts. If Harry knew what he’d been thinking, he’d run away so fucking fast. Louis couldn’t think things like that, not when he couldn’t do a single thing about it. 

 

“Louis! I’m here and I’m ready to go home and eat the best food in the world, how bout you?” Niall said cheerfully, and Louis turned, glad of a reason to tear his gaze away from the one curl that had fallen into Harry’s face as he’d been reading. “Hey, Harry. Long time, mate. You should come round to ours sometime, we could have a lads night. Miss seeing you!”

 

Louis felt the color drain from his face at that prospect, but he busied himself pulling his hat over his head so neither of them would see. He didn’t allow himself to entertain that thought until Niall was driving away from Hope Trust. The idea of Harry in his flat … seeing him when he wasn’t put together for an outing … that was fucking terrifying. And Louis wanted it more than he wanted to admit. 

  
  


*

 

. 

“Oi, Lou, get us some more coffee over here,” Niall called jokingly, and Louis was glad it was the type of day where he could roll his eyes and smile at something like that. He put the coffee pot down in front of Niall and folded his arms. Niall held his gaze for about three seconds before bursting out laughing and pouring himself another cup. Louis very nearly snorted as he took the pot back. 

 

Honestly, Louis loved his job about ten times more when Niall was there. He hated having the feeling that everyone’s eyes were on him, just waiting for something to laugh at. Even when Carol was behind the counter with him, he felt vulnerable, like someone would come up and try to force him into conversation. When Niall was here, he made sure the attention was on him, and even when he wasn’t trying, that’s exactly what happened. Niall was just that type of person - bright, vibrant, unashamed of anything. That’s why he and Louis had become such good friends in the first place. They both thrived on being the center of attention. Times had changed, though, and Louis was grateful that Niall took most of the attention for himself these days. 

 

The bell above the door tinkled merrily, and on the gust of air that blew through as the door closed, Louis thought he smelled snow in the air. The idea of finally getting snow was one that Louis held onto tightly. His best memories were of snow and winter and fires in the fireplace and hot chocolate with peppermint. 

 

“Hi, Niall, fancy meeting you here,”  Harry joked as he slid onto the stool next to Niall’s. Louis felt his face turning red as Harry’s bright eyes turned to him. “Hey, Lou.”

 

Louis gave a pathetic little wave and turned away to wipe down the counter behind him. He hated that he was feeling so many foreign things all at once, and he wished someone could just make sense of them for him and tell him what was going on. 

 

“So, did you finally read that article on PTSD I gave you?” Niall was asking when Louis turned back around, and Harry nodded enthusiastically. 

 

“Yeah! I found it really interesting. It made me thing about maybe becoming a specialist in that part of medicine once I save up enough money for a proper Uni.”

 

“Really? I always thought you were more of a physical therapy type of person.”

 

Harry shrugged, drumming his fingers on the counter. It was very distracting. “I love physical therapy, especially with the kids. They’re all so determined to get back out there with their friends. Adults are a bit more stubborn, I guess. But I’ve always prefered the one on one stuff, like really helping someone come out of their darkest places and memories and helping them live again. When someone comes to therapy unable to sleep or talk about their memories and leaves with a smile, I know I’ve done my job.”

 

Louis found himself smiling, and he tucked his chin, hoping that Harry hadn’t seen. It was just one more thing to add to the list of things Louis found interesting about Harry. He just had so many quirks to pay attention to, and Louis wanted to know all of them. 

 

Slightly unwilling to leave the conversation behind, Louis picked up a bucket and headed out to the few tables that needed cleaning, stacking the plates and cups expertly and trying to ignore the fact that Harry and Niall were directly behind him now. 

 

“Lou … hey, Louis.” Louis turned around and saw that Niall had gone, presumably to the toilet, and Harry had turned around in his seat and was looking at him with a bit of a sideways smile. “Did you ever want to work in medicine?”

 

Thrown by the question, Louis just stood there for a minute, trying to formulate how he was supposed to answer that when his throat felt shrunken to the size of a straw. He shrugged and nodded, hoping that would be enough. 

 

“I was just … I mean, I saw you smiling earlier when I was talking about it. I thought maybe it was something we could talk about sometime, you know, if you wanted. Like you and Harry Potter - I could never get tired of talking about becoming a doctor.”

 

Louis studied Harry for a bit more. Harry always talked like that - like he knew that one day he and Louis would be sitting in a room conversing back and forth like normal people would do. It was strange, because Harry couldn’t possibly know how hard it was for him to even manage a few words some days, and yet, he seemed to have full confidence that it would happen in the future. He believed in Louis more than Louis believed in himself. Or maybe he was just making up scenarios in his head that would never actually happen. Whatever the case, Louis wanted very much to sit with Harry and talk about the things that Harry loved. 

 

When Louis finally snapped out of his thoughts, Harry was still sitting there, still looking at him, waiting. Louis nodded slowly, and Harry smiled so wide, a second dimple came into being on his right cheek. 

 

“I’d really love that,” Harry said, still smiling happily. Louis blushed. Harry was so sweet, and really pretty when he was happy. He was pretty all the time. 

 

A loud commotion had them both turning towards the toilet doors, where a kid was running away, looking ashamed, and Niall was standing there with a surprised look on his face, his nose dripping blood. 

 

Louis froze, feeling his entire body go numb, and he backed into the nearest table, feeling suddenly dizzy. 

 

_ “On the ground, now!” _

 

_ “Drop the gun, hands in the air!” _

 

_ “Cuff him, boys.” _

 

_ “Call an ambulance, quickly.” _

 

_ Louis pressed his hands over his ears, the noise too much for him to handle. He felt almost fuzzy, like he was watching the scene through a really shitty TV connection. Niall was kneeling in front of him, motioning for him to move towards him, but Louis couldn’t. He couldn’t move until he was sure Wayne was out of the house.  _

 

_ He could see Niall’s lips moving, and his friend reached for him, pulling his hands away from his ears.  _

 

_ “They’ve got him, Lou. It’s okay. You can come out now.” _

 

_ Louis shook his head. He could still see Wayne’s knees on the ground and the feet of several policemen surrounding him, moving closer.  He was yanked to his feet, and Louis watched as they struggled to move him towards the door.  _

 

_ “I’ll come back. I’ll finish what I started. Mark my words, you little fag. I’ll be back for you if it’s the last thing I do.” _

 

_ Louis whimpered and curled in on himself, wanting to be as far as possible from that voice, that person.  _

 

_ “Louis, please. They have to … you need to go to the hospital, you could be hurt.” _

 

_ Niall was pleading with him. Louis hated seeing him like that. He slowly unfolded himself and started crawling towards his best friend. He made it out from under the table and sat there with Niall, feeling like he was having an out of body experience. He felt weightless, and he lifted his hands to eye level. They were covered in something red and sticky. Blood. _

 

“Louis … Louis, can you hear me? Fuck, Niall, what do I do?”

 

Louis felt groggy, his mind murky. His heart felt like it was simultaneously racing and not beating at all. He couldn’t even open his eyes to see where he was or what was happening. All he could hear was voices. Familiar voices?

 

“Fuck … get me a cloth or something, gotta stop this nosebleed. He’s triggered by blood.”

 

Louis gasped and wrenched his eyes open, pictures and memories coming to the surface of his mind. All he could see was red. No. No more blood. Not again. 

 

A face framed by curls came into slow focus, concern laced in the planes of his milky skin. Who was he? Why was he in Louis’ house?

 

“Louis?”

 

He felt like he was swimming through muddy water. He couldn’t get his mind around anything. He could hear a low buzzing, like bees, but that wasn’t possible. It was the dead of winter. 

 

That’s when he felt it. He wasn’t lying on the floor or under a table. There were arms around him, unfamiliar arms touching his bare skin, holding him up.

 

_ No, no, no. _

 

Louis could feel his lips moving, mouthing the word as he thrashed, trying to free himself from the grip that held him. He couldn’t stand it. He needed to get away from it. 

 

“Harry, back away from him. He doesn’t recognize you. It takes him a few moments to come back after he’s fainted. Hey, you. Clear off. Don’t fucking stare at him, he’s not here for your amusement.”

 

Louis could feel so many emotions churning in him. He was relieved that whoever had been holding him had let go. He felt embarrassed - he’d fainted, in front of strangers, in a public place, for now he had recognized the diner, again. He felt terrified - he looked all over himself, checking for the blood he was sure was covering him, drowning him.

 

Someone knelt in front of him, and Louis blinked hard, trying to fully come back to himself. It was Niall. His best friend, Niall.  

 

“Hey, Lou. It’s Niall. You know me, right?”

 

Louis felt himself shaking as he nodded once, trying to avert his eyes from the cloth Niall was holding to his nose as he spoke. 

 

“I’m alright. Just got whacked. It’ll heal. I’m so sorry for scaring you.” He handed the cloth off to the person standing behind him. The curly one. Harry, Louis remembered. His embarrassment tripled and he looked away, trying to make himself as small as possible. “Let me get you up, yeah?”

 

Louis whimpered as Niall wrapped his hands around Louis and helped him to his feet. Louis stumbled, his head still spinning, tears now springing to his eyes. He could still see the blood, so much blood …

 

“Carol, I’ll take him home. He’ll be alright, he just needs some rest.”

 

Louis reluctantly let Niall lead him towards the door, but at the same time, he just wanted to be out of there. Eyes followed him as Niall guided him away, and he caught a pair of green ones. They were wide, concerned, and Louis looked away, the shame making his heart ache.

 

*

  
  


Louis hadn’t moved from his curled up position on the couch since they’d gotten back to the flat. Niall had tried to give him food or even just some water, but he couldn’t even look at it. Everything he looked at turned to blood. 

 

He knew he’d taken a huge step back today, and even though it wasn’t his fault, or Niall’s, or anyone’s, he hated himself. He had been doing so well. He’d even almost started talking to Tom, and he was definitely considering trying to talk to Harry. But now, he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to speak again. Maybe he just wasn’t worth trying to help. Maybe this was just it for him - this was his life from now on. Maybe it was time he got used to it.

 

Niall had settled on the chair across from the couch, and both of them were staring aimlessly at the TV, where one of the old classic Christmas movies was playing. Louis thought, once or twice, that Niall had gone to stay something, but the silence had stayed permanent, other than the noise from the movie. 

 

There was a loud buzzing, and Louis jumped, his eyes focusing on Niall, who was pulling out his phone. He gave his screen a strange look, glanced at Louis, and then stood up, putting the phone to his ear. 

 

“Hey … yeah, he’s here … I don’t know about alright, but he’s sitting up. Seems fine physically, thanks to you … mhmmm … yeah, I’ll make sure … yeah. Thanks for calling. Bye, mate.”

 

He hung up and caught Louis staring at him. Louis didn’t look away this time. He repositioned himself and faced Niall, clearing his throat and praying the words would come out when he opened his mouth.

 

“What … what happened?”

 

Niall sat down heavily and looked sadly at Louis. That didn’t make him feel any better. But he waited, sure that Niall was just figuring out the best way to tell him without sending him into a panic. 

 

“Well … I know it was my fault, and I’m sorry about that … didn’t expect the kid to come flying in. But you saw me, and you went white as a sheet and passed out. Harry caught you before you hit your head on the floor, otherwise we would have had a more serious situation on our hands.”

 

“He … what?” Louis asked, just to make sure he’d heard properly. 

 

“He caught you. Literally launched himself off his stool and had you in his arms so you didn’t hurt yourself. And he knows you don’t like being touched, but I think he was more concerned about your safety than touching you. Never seen anything like it. He was terrified. He thought you were having a seizure or something.”

 

Louis looked down at his lap, feeling horribly sick inside. Of all people, Harry was the last one he wanted to see him like that. Harry probably hated him now, thought he was a weirdo who needed to be locked up. He clenched his fists, trying to ignore the negativity flooding his brain.

 

“Hey, don’t do that. I know what you’re doing, and you can stop. He was just concerned for you. That was him just now, on the phone. He was making sure you were okay …” Niall said, his words trailing off.

 

“I didn’t want …” Louis began, but he couldn’t finish. His throat felt impossibly tight, and his eyes were wet. 

 

Niall stood again and came to sit next to him on the couch. Louis just kept his gaze down, not wanting Niall to see him cry. He hated crying - he did it too much, and he wished he could control it. 

 

“You like him, don’t you?”

 

Louis pressed his lips together, willing himself not to cry, but it was too late. He could feel the tear tracks on his cheeks. He looked up at Niall and nodded, a sob escaping him. Niall put his arm around him and Louis let his head fall onto Niall’s shoulder, his body shaking with sobs. 

 

“Oh, Lou … if it makes you feel any better, I think he likes you too.”

 

Louis shook his head. He couldn’t entertain that possibility, not ever. Especially after what had just happened. “He … not after …”

 

Niall pulled him closer, rubbing his hand up and down his arm gently. “Harry’s not going to look down on you for this. He just wants you to be okay.”

 

_ I’ll never be okay _ , Louis thought to himself,  burying his face in Niall’s chest and hoping he could cry himself to sleep right there. Maybe then, all the pain of remembering that night and of losing Harry before he’d even had him would go away. 

 

*

 

**> H <**

 

 

“Hey, Liam,” Harry said as he shrugged off his coat. “Where am I today?”

 

Liam looked down at his clipboard, adjusting his white coat slightly before flipping through the pages. He slid his finger down the last piece of paper and grinned. “You’re in kids PT today.”

 

Harry had to fight the urge to clap his hands. He always had the best time working with the little kids in their PT room. They had all sorts of balls and bars and balancing activities that made Harry feel young again.

 

“That’s amazing! Thanks, Li - I know you put in a good word for me.”

 

“It wasn’t me, actually. The kids requested to have the “cool curly nurse man”, I could only assume that meant our one and only Harry Styles,” Liam said with a laugh, looking down at his pager as it went off. “Ah, fuck. Duty calls. See you out there?”

 

“You got it, Payno. See ya.”

 

Liam pushed open the door of the kitchen, which they had made their break room for the time being. Harry tugged off his soft red sweater and threw on his blue t-shirt, shivering slightly as air hit his bare arms. Grabbing a bottle of water, he made his way to the stairs, heading up to the third floor of the building. 

 

He made a pitstop on the second, scanning the common area quickly before heading up to the third. No Louis. Harry knew that Louis’ appointment wasn’t for another thirty minutes or so, but he had still hoped he could talk to him again. 

 

He had been spot-on with his original assumption that Louis held more in him than met the eye. Their last interaction had really put things into perspective for him. If Louis reacted so strongly to the sight of blood, Harry couldn’t imagine what might happen if something worse were to trigger him. It scared him. Louis seemed so delicate and fragile when Harry had held his unconscious form in his arms. Seeing him so vulnerable was a shock, one that Harry was still getting over. 

 

He finally reached the kids PT room, and there was a chorus of high pitched voices screaming his name as he entered. He grinned, stopping to give each kid a high five and shake hands with the doctors. 

 

“And how is my little fighter today, huh, Brett?” Harry asked, settling down across from a little boy no older than five. Brett had been born with a muscular issue in his legs, and was told he’d never walk. But the kid was determined, and his parents had brought him here just a few weeks ago, hoping that Hope Trust would be able to help. Brett had taken to Harry the second they’d met. 

 

“Pretty good, Dr. Harry.”

 

“Ah, ah, not a doctor yet, am I?” Harry corrected kindly.

 

“Sorry, Harry. I’m getting better. I can stand for a whole five seconds before I get tired,” Brett said proudly, puffing out his chest from where he sat comfortably on the floor, his little legs out in front of him.

 

“Well done, love! You’re doing so well. But I think you’re just gonna have to show me, I gotta see to believe,” Harry joked, poking Brett’s tummy. He giggled and turned to his therapist, a woman by the name of Josie. 

 

“Dr. Josie, will you help me, please?”

 

“Of course, lovie. Let’s show Harry how big and strong you’ve gotten,” Josie said brightly, and Harry watched as the physical therapist moved Brett over to two bars positioned perfectly for him to grip onto. She placed her hands under his armpits from behind and hoisted him to his feet. Brett’s little tongue stuck out as he concentrated on getting his feet flat on the floor, holding tight to the bars. Josie slowly pulled her hands away, and Harry didn’t miss how Brett’s arms shook, exerting quite a lot of effort to hold himself in place. 

 

“One … two … free … four … five,” Brett panted, letting himself fall back safely into Josie’s waiting arms. 

 

“That was so good, Brett! I’m so proud of you!” Harry cheered, knowing that everyone, especially the kids, thrived off of positive encouragement. “I’ve gotta go look after the others now, but you keep working at it! Maybe I’ll have a treat for you next time, yeah?”

 

Brett clapped his hands together happily and Harry nodded to Josie, moving on to the next patron. 

 

He went all around the room, visiting the kids with various injuries. They all remembered him and all babbled on about what they were doing and what they wanted to do once they were better. Harry loved that kids had such positivity. They just wanted to be back up and playing with their friends and doing things kids did. They didn’t dwell on the scary stuff, which made it easier to help them get better. 

 

At the end of his hour, Harry wiped his face off with the bottom of his t-shirt, feeling warm after all that running around. He was due to meet Liam downstairs in his office for his performance evaluation. Even though he was only a volunteer, Liam knew about his ambitions to become a doctor, and performance evaluations were something he could use to get into Uni. 

 

Harry ambled down the stairs and stepped off onto the second floor. Liam’s office was at the far end, across the common area. 

 

Suddenly, a door flew open to his right, and Tom’s face appeared, his expression half exasperated, half terrified. Harry looked at the clock and then back at Tom, feeling dread creeping up his spine. 

 

“He’s … god, I don’t know what I said, I’ve tried everything. I can’t get to him. He’s just … come and see, maybe you can help.”

 

Harry didn’t hesitate but followed Tom quickly into his office. It took a moment before he spotted him. 

 

Louis was curled in a corner, trying his best to hide behind the plant Tom kept there for aesthetic purposes. His eyes were closed tight, tears tracing his cheeks, and he was scratching at his arms. Harry could see red marks streaking his forearms, and even a little blood where he’d torn into the skin. 

 

Harry’s heart was racing, but his voice came out steady. He tossed his phone to Tom. “Call Niall, tell him it’s an emergency. Then go and get Liam and tell him to bring bandages. I’ll see if I can get him to calm down.”

 

Tom opened Harry’s phone without another word, already holding it up to his ear. Harry got down on his hands and knees and crawled slowly towards Louis, hoping he didn’t scare him. 

 

“Louis? Lou, can you hear me? It’s Harry …”

 

Louis’ eyes flew open and his scratching became more irritated. Harry could see beads of blood starting to form from some of the deeper cuts, and he remembered what had happened the last time - he couldn’t let that happen again. 

 

In that moment, he made a decision. He had no other choice, even if it might make things worse. He had to protect Louis from himself, even if that meant going against his wishes. He crawled right up next to Louis’, who shrank away from him, hitting the wall in his haste, but Harry ignored that. He reached out and pulled Louis’ shaking body into his arms, holding him to his chest so that his arms were pinned at his sides, unable to scratch. 

 

He expected Louis to struggle. He expected more panicking and more tears. He even expected to possibly be hit. But the exact opposite happened. Louis went quite limp in his arms, the tension leaving his body as he relaxed against Harry’s chest. His breathing was still ragged, but it seemed to be slowing down. Harry hummed a random tune, rocking Louis slightly back and forth, like he did with the kids when they got upset. He wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do, but he couldn’t think of anything else. 

 

He felt tears soaking his shirt, but he didn’t stop. He felt Louis’ hands moving, trying to get back to his arms, so he held him tighter. He felt Louis’ heart, which had been beating erratically, slowing down to a more normal pace. 

 

The door to the office opened and in came Tom, followed by a very windswept looking Niall and a concerned Liam. Liam’s hands were full of white bandages and tape. Harry looked at them, still cradling Louis to his chest, and sighed in relief. 

 

“Harry, how … he never lets anyone touch him, sometimes not even me,” Niall whispered in astonishment. Harry shrugged as best he could without jostling Louis too much. He honestly wasn’t sure himself. Niall knelt down next to them and motioned for Harry to let Louis go. He did so, albeit reluctantly. He quite liked the feeling of Louis close to him like that.

 

He chastised himself for thinking like that right now - it definitely wasn’t the time for his feelings to be taking over his mind. This was serious. 

 

Louis sniffed and looked up from his position on Harry’s lap. His eyes went wide and he scrambled away, making a small thud as he fell from Harry’s lap to the carpeted floor, his eyes downcast and his arms looking worse now that the scratches had had time to manifest. 

 

“No, no, Lou, don’t look down. Look right at me. That’s it. Focus on my face. I’m gonna patch you up, alright? You’re okay,” Niall soothed, and Harry found himself slightly jealous of the easy way Niall handled the situation, and of how Louis, even with hesitation, listened to Niall completely. 

Doing his best to ignore his feelings, he passed Niall the bandages that Liam had handed him, and Niall slowly wound the gauze around Louis’ forearms. Louis sat there, fresh tears brimming in his eyes, but did not look down. Harry felt suddenly useless, and he scooted back to where Liam was now standing, watching as Niall helped Louis to his feet. Louis seemed to be trying to make himself smaller, his eyes darting around the room frantically as though he expected someone to crawl out from under the desk and attack him. 

 

“I’m gonna take him home. But Tom, I’ll have to come by later and talk to you about what happened. Harry and Liam as well. Just … yeah, I’ll be back in a few hours.”

 

Harry just nodded, watching as Niall led Louis away. Louis’ shoulders were shaking as he followed Niall out of the office. Harry wished he could do something to stop him from crying. 

 

*

 

“Alright … now that we’re all here, I wanted to talk to Tom first. What happened, mate?” 

 

Niall took a sip of his tea and glanced over at Tom, who was washing a dish in the sink. He swallowed. 

 

“Well, we were doing our exercises as normal. He wasn’t responding as well as he usually did, but I put that down to a possible lack of sleep. I wasn’t worried. We kept going as usual. He started getting agitated, pulling at his sleeves, and I thought maybe he was getting anxious. I tried to ask him what was wrong, but he wouldn’t respond. Not even a nod or shake of the head or a shrug, like I usually get. So I thought maybe if we just talked about something else, it would get him back on track. So I just mentioned to him that I’d heard he was Laura’s son, and that I’d known her when she was a volunteer here, and that’s when the scratching started. And when I tried to stop him, he just ...”

 

Harry watched Niall’s expression move from concern to realization, and then to resignation. 

 

“You brought up Laura. Tom, he doesn’t talk about her. He can’t.”

 

Tom looked horrified. “I … I had no idea. I thought I was doing something kind - she was such a wonderful person.”

 

Liam cleared his throat. “You couldn’t have known, Tom. It wasn’t your fault. There are a lot of things about Louis that even I don’t understand. His triggers are unique to his situation. No one but him knows exactly what went on that night, which makes it hard for us to know what to do and what not to do.”

 

“You’re right. She was wonderful. She was one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known. But Louis watched her die, right in front of him. You can see why mentioning her to him might set him off.” Niall ran a hand through his hair, clearly worried.

 

Harry raised his hand, not quite feeling like he could just speak out. Niall’s eyes were on him now.  “I, uh … I just wanted to apologize. I know he doesn’t like to be touched, and I did so without his permission …”

 

Niall shook his head. “Don’t apologize, Harry. You did the right thing. It’s exactly what I’d have done. And by the looks of it, you calmed him down. I should be thanking you. Things could have been so much worse if you hadn’t been there. The scratching thing is something that hasn’t happened in a long time. He used to do it all the time after … well, I think he just felt tainted, unclean, like he still had his family’s blood on his hands.”

 

Harry felt his cheeks turning pink, and he averted his eyes, listening as Liam spoke once more. 

 

“I’ve noticed a few things, just in passing observation, and I think you might want to take him to a specialist for PTSD. If the mere mention of his mother’s name can send him into any kind of panic, I can’t imagine what his other triggers might be, or what harm he might bring to himself if they’re brought to light.”

 

Harry looked up at that, searching Niall’s face for any sign of anger. It was one thing for a professional to make such a claim, but Liam wasn’t quite at that level, at least, Harry knew that he didn’t consider himself as such. Niall, however was nodding. 

 

“I agree. I’ve been trying for about a year or so now. I think it’s the thought that … that Wayne might come back at some point, that keeps Louis from moving forward. He always seems to be getting better, and then he has these sort of flashbacks, either in his sleep or when he faints. And then he’s back where he was three years ago. It’s hard for him to trust doctors, though, when so many have treated him like just another problem to check off their list.”

 

Harry’s heart was breaking in his chest. He wished he could just take Louis’ pain, all of it, away and bear it himself. He hated the thought of Louis being tormented by memories, especially the types of things that he must be reliving from that night, if the papers had gotten it right. 

 

“If I could get someone to meet him here, would that possibly work? He seems comfortable here,” Liam mused, and Niall seemed to agree. 

 

“Yes, it’s possible. That is, if I can get him to come back after what happened today. He was very hesitant to come here in the first place. I’m not sure how he’s going to feel about it now.”

 

Liam gave an understanding nod and patted Niall on the shoulder. “Well, I hope all goes well. You’d better get back to him, though.”

 

“Yeah, I should. I left a friend with him at our flat, one he knows, but I really need to get back, in any case.”

 

They all shook hands. Harry watched him go and then turned to Liam. 

 

“Mind if I head home? I was supposed to call my sister about an hour ago …”

 

Liam shooed him out of the room, and Harry went quickly, hoping he could still catch up. He caught Niall rounding the corner to the front door and sprinted after him, stopping him just as he exited the building. 

 

“I … can you tell Louis that I hope he’s feeling better?” Harry asked, blushing, and Niall studied him for a moment before nodding with a smile. 

 

“I definitely can. I’m sure he’ll be happy you checked on him.”

 

“I really care about him, Niall. I don’t like seeing him in pain. He doesn’t deserve it, and if there’s anything at all that I can do, just let me know.”

 

Niall’s smile made some of Harry’s worry fade away. He let Niall go and made his way to his own car, knowing that at least Louis would be in good hands until they met again -  _ if  _ they met again. 

 

*

 

**> L <**

 

 

“Lou … Loooouuuuiiiiiis … wake up, mate.”

 

Louis cracked one eye open, preparing a few choice words that he would love to say to Niall for waking him up in the morning. But his eyes landed on something flickering, a candle, and he rubbed at them, sitting up. 

 

Niall was sat there on the edge of his bed with a beautifully frosted cupcake, a single candle stuck in the top of it. He was grinning and he held a parcel in his hand. 

 

“Happy birthday, Lou!” he said happily, holding out the cupcake. Louis closed his eyes, his wish already formed as it was every year. As he bit into the cupcake, Niall prattled on about his plans for the next few days. “I’m considering taking a quick trip back to Ireland, you know, see the family and all, and if you didn’t want to come, you could stay with Zayn, or Zayn could stay here. But I’m definitely spending today and Christmas morning with you, no questions about it. I hope you’ve bought me lots of fantastic pressies.”

 

Louis rolled his eyes and swallowed his enormous bite of cupcake. “Bought them ages ago.”

 

“Well, good. Hey, did you get out of work today?”

 

“No. I have to go,” Louis mumbled through cake and frosting, and Niall groaned. 

 

“Why? It’s your birthday, for fuck’s sake! You shouldn’t have to work. Today should be about doing absolutely nothing and stuffing your face.”

 

Louis agreed with him, but he said nothing. As much as he’d wanted to take off today, and as much as Carol had begged him not to come in, he couldn’t stay home. He’d missed too many days of work lately because of his messed up head, and he really couldn’t afford not to work. He couldn’t live with Niall forever - he had to eventually get his own place and make a life for himself, and for that, he needed money. 

 

“Tell you what. You work in a few hours, right? Well, after, we can go to Tesco and grab all the junk you want, and we can pig out and make peppermint hot chocolate and watch  _ Home Alone _ . How does that sound?”

 

Louis licked off his fingers and smiled - his first genuine smile in a while. “Perfect.”

 

*

 

Louis had never done a shift that had gone slower than this one. Every time he glanced at the TV mounted in the corner for the time, the clock didn’t seem to be moving. He felt like he’d cleaned every table at least six times, and he still had a half hour until he got to go home. 

 

“Lou, a little more coffee over at the end of the bar, and then the register needs attending, please, love,” Carol said brightly, her bright red vest jingling festively. Her excitement and happiness made him smile, and he went off to get coffee for a sweet old couple with a bit of a spring in his step. 

 

Louis had to admit, he loved this time of year. Even though it was cold and dreary and it happened to be the season of one of the worst times in his life, he still fell in love with the lights and the baubles and the snow. It was this time of year where everyone was just a little bit happier and a little bit kinder. Even his usual bullies hadn’t been in since the milkshake incident, which was a bit of a relief. He didn’t think he could handle all of that so close to the anniversary of what had started it all. 

 

Finally, the clock on the TV changed to 5 PM, and Louis nearly tore his apron off in his haste to grab his jacket. He went over to Carol, who was straightening the decorations in the window, and she smiled, putting a gentle hand on his arm. 

“Happy birthday, love. And Merry Christmas.”

 

“Merry Christmas,” Louis said quietly, watching her smile grow at the sound of his voice. He reached in awkwardly for a hug, not being used to initiating the affection, but he thought she deserved one after everything she’d done for him in the last few months alone. 

 

Niall was waiting for him outside in his car, and together, they raided Tesco of all their Minstrels and dry-roasted peanuts. Many things had changed, but Louis’ favorite snacks weren’t one of them. They also snagged some home-bake pizzas and some sodas, and then they were off home. 

 

The flat smelled like gingerbread and vanilla and pizza by the time Louis and Niall settled on their couch, covered in blankets and wearing elf hats. Niall had insisted, and Louis’ hair was a mess anyway - what did he care if the hat made it worse?

 

The tree was lit and  _ Home Alone _ was playing as they munched their pizza and goodies, Niall’s cackles echoing through the flat. Louis sat back into the couch cushions, a full stomach and a happy smile on his face. He felt good. He wasn’t anxious. He wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t scared. He was just here, with his best friend, surrounded by lights and decorations and joy. Nothing could make this night better. 

 

They were halfway through  _ Home Alone 2 _ when there was a gentle knock on the door. Niall had just gone up to go to the loo, and Louis hesitated at getting up. What if it was his aunt again? But then the same soft knock came again, and Louis just had a feeling that he should open the door. 

 

He stood up and walked over, taking a deep breath before pulling the door open. 

 

Harry stood there, looking a bit chilly, but happy. He had rosy red spots on his cheeks from the cold, and his curls were everywhere, but in that moment, Louis thought that he’d never seen anything more beautiful. 

 

It was only then that Louis realized Harry was speaking, and he tore his eyes away from Harry’s lips, where they’d lingered a bit too long. He pressed his lips together, feeling a bit embarrassed that he’d been so distracted, but Harry didn’t seem to mind. 

 

“I tried to catch you at the diner, but they were closed when I got there, and I’d been here before once, so I thought I’d try here. Niall told me it was your birthday.” Louis stared as Harry pulled a brightly wrapped rectangle out of his jacket pocket. “I got you something. Can … can I come in?”

 

Louis hated that it had taken him this long to invite Harry in - it was fucking freezing outside and here they were, standing out in it when there was a perfectly warm flat waiting behind him. He moved out of the way, clearing his throat as Harry closed the door behind him, sighing at the warmth. 

 

“Oh, right. Here you are.” Harry handed over the parcel, his cheeks even redder now, for some reason. “I hope you like it. It was the only thing I could think to get that you might like.”

 

Louis looked from Harry to the present before unwrapping it. It was a pristine copy of  _ Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone _ with the original cover. Louis smiled softly at it, feeling the binding new and unbroken beneath his fingers.

 

“Open it,” Harry encouraged, and Louis, feeling a bit suspicious now, flipped through the first few pages. He stopped, gasping as he reached the title page. JK Rowling herself had signed it. There was her name, her signature, right across the page in black ink. Louis’ throat felt tight, but this time, it was in a good way, if that was possible. 

 

He looked up at Harry through bleary eyes, feeling completely overwhelmed. He cleared his throat again. This was it. He was going to speak to Harry this time, he was determined. He had to thank him for this. He couldn’t not. But even as he opened his mouth, and Harry watched him, waiting, he knew it was no use. He felt like the air was sucked out of his lungs, and he deflated slightly, holding the book to his chest and looking at Harry’s battered boots.

 

“It’s okay. I know you love it. I can see it on your face. I … I’m glad.” 

 

He looked like he was going to say more, but was unsure. Louis gave him a smile, trying to be encouraging. It seemed to do the trick. 

 

“I, umm … I was also wondering … I know I’m not trained in speech therapy, or anything. But I did take a class in sign language. I had a classmate who was deaf, and we were pretty good friends. She taught me everything I know. And I know it’s hard for you to talk sometimes, and I get that. But maybe, uh … I could teach you? So you could communicate and not feel so down about it, cause I know it must be frustrating. Having so many probably smart and insightful things to say and not being able to say them …” Harry trailed off, looking at Louis through his eyelashes.

 

Louis was stunned. No one had ever offered that to him before. He’d considered learning it himself, of course, but it would have required someone else learning with him, and his doctors would have to know it as well. It was just too much to ask. But here Harry was, offering to teach him something that wasn’t even part of his job. It was just a friend trying to help a friend. 

 

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine too, I just thought I’d offer, you know? I’ve got this skill that is pretty much going to waste, but I saw an opportunity and I … I really want to know what you have to say.”

 

Louis was blushing now, and he held his book closer to him, finally nodding. Harry’s smile made his whole face glow, and Louis felt warmth spreading from his head to the tips of his toes. 

 

“Really? Oh wow … okay, yeah. We can always meet after your session with Tom, or before, or anytime, really. I’m up for anything. I, uh, gotta go. Driving up home to see my family, and I’m already a bit late, but I had to give this to you. Umm, Merry Christmas.”

 

Louis lifted his fingertips to his lips and then held his hand out towards Harry. There was one thing he did know in sign - thank you. Harry’s face softened, and he opened the door, pulling his coat tighter around him. 

 

“Oh … and I love the hat, by the way.”

 

The door closed and Louis just stood there staring at it, his heart beating quickly and his stomach doing backflips. He couldn’t even find it in him to be embarrassed about the elf hat. 

 

“Well, that was just adorable, wasn’t it?”

 

Louis spun around, already blushing as Niall walked in from the main room, grinning. Louis held out the book, pointing to the cover page, and Niall nodded, seemingly impressed. 

 

“It’s signed,” Louis muttered, still trying to wrap his head around it. He struggled to find the words to describe the rest of what had happened. “And …”

 

Niall grinned and threw an arm around Louis’ shoulders, leading them back to the couch. “I know, mate. I heard! And why wouldn’t he want to talk to you? You’re fucking amazing, and if you ask me, I’d say he’s got a bit of a crush on you, Lou.”

 

“Fuck off,” Louis grumbled, but he was smiling as Kevin set up his traps for the second year in a row on the screen. It truly was the best birthday and Christmas he’d ever had. 

 

*

 

Louis’ first session back with Tom wasn’t as bad as he thought it was going to be. Tom seemed just as wary as he was, and somehow, that made Louis feel better. They went through their usual exercises, not going any further than they had before Christmas, and Louis walked out, feeling as though he’d made a bit of progress as of late. 

His night terrors had stopped, for the most part, allowing him to get sleep and not feel sick in the mornings. He’d opted to stay at his and Niall’s flat alone while Niall went home to Ireland. It was the first time he’d been without supervision since that night, but Louis refused to let that scare him. He had someone to call if things got bad.

 

He played music almost all the time, he learned how to cook a few new things, and he even started writing his journals again. It was something he’d started shortly before his mum and sister were killed, and in a way, he found writing down random thoughts or fears very therapeutic. 

 

And now, here he was, about to go to his first sign language lesson with Harry. They’d decided to just settle in the common area, and Louis was grateful that Harry had suggested that. He wasn’t sure he’d have been up to going somewhere more public.

 

He settled in a comfortable chair, waiting and fiddling with his phone. He was nervous. Not only was he probably about to embarrass himself in front of Harry, but this was the first time he was seeing him since his birthday. His stomach was doing all sorts of gymnastics, and his hands felt a little tingly.

 

“Hi, Louis!”

 

Louis turned his head at the sound of Harry’s voice and felt himself smiling. Harry didn’t look any different than he normally did, but Louis heart flipped at the sight of his messy curls and his big green eyes. He felt like, if he could speak, his voice would come out all high and squeaky.

 

He gave Harry a little wave and settled himself more comfortably in his seat, watching Harry dump his coat on the back of a chair and sit across from him. Louis could feel his hands shaking in his lap and clenched them, willing himself to stop. His nerves were slowly morphing into anxiety, but he didn’t want anything to ruin this. He wanted to communicate with Harry just as badly as Harry seemed to want to with him. He had to do this. 

 

“Okay, so first, I figured we could do the alphabet. I learned ASL, not BSL, because the person who taught me was from America, but they’re very similar, and I don’t think it matters which one we use, since you’re just starting out. After that, we can do some basic words, like hello, thank you, you’re welcome, please, yes, and no. Does that sound good?”

 

Louis head was spinning with all of that, but he nodded anyway. He moved closer to the edge of his chair, feeling the need to sit up a bit straighter. Harry brushed his hair out of his face and rubbed his hands together. 

 

“We can start with just going through. This is A.” Harry held up his right hand in a fist, his thumb pointing up instead of wrapping around his fingers. Louis imitated him easily, nodding when he thought he’d gotten it. Harry’s smile said it all. “Good! B looks like this.”

 

On and on they went, going through each letter separately. Louis struggled a bit with R and S, and Harry reached over gently, pointing out where his fingers should be. Louis almost longed for Harry to just grab his hands and reposition them, and that thought alone made his insides squirm with something he was sure he’d never felt before - a strange sort of anticipation, almost like desire. He pushed it away. He had to focus. 

 

By the end of their hour, Louis had not only gotten the hang of the alphabet, but had learned all of the basic phrases Harry had suggested. They spent the last few minutes fooling around, trying to spell out different words before the other. 

 

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. You, umm … when you spell a name, you don’t have to always spell it out. Like … from what I learned from my friend, a deaf person, or anyone who communicates by sign, can make up their own sign for the people they care about. Like for Niall, instead of spelling out N I A L L, you could do the sign for Ireland.” Harry paused and showed him the sign - left hand in a fist, right hand pinched and circling above it twice before landing on the back of the left. Louis nodded. He liked that idea, having something that was special between himself and his friends. He thought for a moment, feeling slightly embarrassed about what came to his mind, but he felt like he needed something for Harry - something to thank him for this, for everything. He looked up, Harry’s voice finally coming back into focus.

 

“Of course, not everyone is important enough to have their own sign or name. Sometimes, it depends on how close the person is to the one doing the communication through sign.”

 

Louis waved to get Harry’s attention, and Harry faltered, tilting his head slightly as he listened. Louis pointed at him, and then held up two fingers sideways, the sign for H, and tapped it twice over his heart. Harry’s face flushed and he looked away bashfully. Louis felt his face turning red, but right now, he didn’t care. He meant it. He wanted that to be just his and Harry’s.

 

“Lou, that’s … I’m very honored that you’ve … umm …” Harry, for once, seemed at a loss for words, and Louis felt strangely proud of that. Harry was very pretty when he blushed.

 

“Hey, Lou. Ready to go?”

 

Louis turned around, shocked at the disappointment he felt upon seeing Niall’s cheery face. He’d been having such a good time with Harry, he hadn’t even realized that their hour was way past up. Louis stood quickly, tugging on his jacket and trying not to look too sad about leaving. Harry stood too, stretching and showing a sliver of pale skin where his shirt rose up. Louis swallowed hard.

 

“Hey, Niall. Sorry we went a bit over, we were just … learning,” Harry said, glancing sideways at Louis. Louis blushed, but felt the corner of his mouth turn up in a smile. Harry, having shrugged on his jacket now, turned back to Louis and looked him right in the eyes, his hands moving. 

 

_ You did really well today. Thank you,  _ he signed, and Louis, surprised that he understood all that, nodded and signed  _ thank you _ in return.

 

“Hey, H, I’ve just thought - we’ve never had a night, just us lads, have we? It’s always been here or there for the few minutes we have to spare. Why don’t you come over to ours next week. We can watch some movies, get really terrible takeout, the works. What do you say?”

 

Louis felt himself go pale, and he hoped it wasn’t visibly obvious. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Harry over to their flat. It was the fact that he wanted it  _ too _ much. His mind had been consumed by thoughts of Harry with them, Harry and him alone, Harry in his flat, Harry in his room …

 

He stopped there, forcing himself out of his far fetched fantasies and back to reality. Harry coming over meant nothing other than what Niall had said - a lad’s night. Movies and takeout. Fun. That’s all it was. 

 

“I … I’d love to, honestly. Been thinking about asking you guys round to mine, but it’s still a bit of a mess.” Harry rolled his eyes at himself. Louis hated that he found that endearing. “But only if Louis is okay with it.”

 

Both Niall and Harry looked at Louis, who was just standing there, shocked. Never before had someone asked that. He didn’t expect them to. It wasn’t like he wanted everyone to be considerate of him because he was damaged. That felt way too much like pity. But the way Harry assumed that he needed to check, and was actually checking … it made Louis’ cheeks flame red once more. 

 

Louis nodded, trying not to seem too eager. The smile on Harry’s face at that made Louis’ heart skip several beats. 

 

“Sounds great! I’ll text you with the details. See you around, H!”

 

Niall turned and headed for the stairs. Louis gave a pathetic little wave and followed Niall quickly, wanting more than anything to escape before Harry could work out just exactly what was going on inside his head. 

 

“Your cheeks haven’t been that red since you met that German exchange student in year 7,” Niall joked as they made their way to the car. Louis glared at him, but he knew Niall was right. For the first time, though, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hide those feelings away anymore. It was, after all, about time he had hope for a little happiness in his life.

 

*

 

“Lou, pizza’s gonna be here any minute. Mind getting the door? I’m just gonna get out of these scrubs,” Niall called from his room, and Louis jolted out of his stupor. He rubbed his hands together, trying to stop them from shaking. 

 

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Harry being there since Niall had suggested it a week ago. He was constantly nervous and jittery, a contrast to his normal state, but not any more inviting. He shouldn’t be this nervous. He could kind of talk to Harry, now, if signing counted as talking. They’d been working on it all week and he could do small sentences, but that wasn’t really helping him right now. 

 

Niall’s constant tiny comments about Louis’ feelings for Harry weren’t helping matters either. Niall knew when to make fun and when to not, but then again, this was the first person Louis had ever truly started to fall for. It was different. And every time Niall even said Harry’s name, Louis felt his stomach churn with nervous excitement. 

 

And now Harry was going to be here, after a week of worrying and overthinking himself to the point of nausea, and Louis didn’t know if he could do it. Real anxiety was now seeping in, mixing with his nervous energy, and the combination wasn’t settling right. 

 

There was a knock on the door and Louis stood to answer it, money in hand. To his surprise, however, the pizza guy wasn’t there. It was Harry.

 

Louis stood there, his mouth slightly open as he openly stared at him. Harry was dressed very differently to his usual style of a blue t-shirt and jeans that Louis was used to. He was wearing very tight skinny jeans, so tight they appeared painted on. His coat was buttoned up tight, and there was a colorful scarf wound around his neck. His hair was pushed back so his forehead was exposed, and he was smiling nervously, the toes of his scuffed up boots pointed inwards at each other. Louis felt breathless.

 

“Hi, Lou. Umm … can I come in? It’s pretty cold out.”

 

Louis stared at him for a few more seconds before his words absorbed into his brain, and he nodded furiously, signing sorry as he moved out of the way. Harry came in, shivering a little, but looking pleased. He’d brought some snacks along with him, and Louis was pleased to see that he’d snuck in a bag of Minstrels.

 

Harry shrugged off his coat and Louis reached wordlessly for it, trying very hard to ignore how delicate Harry’s waist looked. He ached to reach out and touch, but he scolded himself in his mind and hung up Harry’s coat. 

 

“Hey, Harry! Glad you could make it. Heard they were calling for snow tonight, so I figured you might cancel. But this is great.” Niall beamed as he came out into the main room. Louis didn’t miss the way Niall sized up Harry’s outfit and then winked at Louis. He blushed, glad that another knock came on the door, giving him something to do.

 

Louis brought the pizzas in and set them on the table with all the other food and drinks. Niall was already settled in his usual chair, flipping through Netflix, which left one seat open - the one next to Harry on the sofa. He sat down gently on the edge of the sofa, keeping himself very closed off. It didn’t go unnoticed. 

 

_ You okay? _ Harry signed to him. Louis gave a jerky nod, his body aching to curl up next to Harry and steal his body warmth. But he couldn’t do that. They were friends, that was all. 

 

They finally picked a movie and Louis felt himself start to relax a little. This wasn’t as big of a deal as he was making it out to be in his head. It was just pizza and a movie with the lads. He could do this. 

 

But by the time they were halfway through the movie, Louis realized that he had barely paid any attention to it. He was more focused on Harry’s reactions. Every now and then, Harry would lean forward when something intense was happening, engaging himself completely. He would throw his head back and laugh loudly at the funny parts. His laugh was unlike anything Louis had ever heard before - it was more of a cackle mixed with a bark, and Louis found himself giggling quietly every time Harry would laugh. His heart felt full watching Harry be himself. He wished he were that brave. 

 

“Jesus, that guy is such a twat. Like, mate, you knew if you walked in there, you’d get your head chopped off, and you walked in there. And guess what fucking happened?” Harry exclaimed loudly, and Louis couldn’t help it. He laughed, out loud, very nearly choking on his fourth slice of pizza. Niall and Harry both looked at him in surprise, and he blushed. It had been quite a while since something had made him laugh like that. Normally, his laugh was silent, like every other moment of his life. 

 

“God, Lou, I don’t know if it was that funny,” Niall joked, throwing a pretzel at him. Louis smiled in embarrassment.

 

“Hey … Hey, Lou,” Harry’s voice whispered as the movie played on, and Louis chanced a glance up into those intense green eyes. “I like your laugh. It’s nice to hear it.”

 

If Louis could have squeaked, that would have been the moment. His face was surely redder than it had ever been, and he was glad for the dim lighting of the room.

 

Niall sat up then, pausing the movie. “Sorry, lads, gotta take a wee. Be back in a jiff.” He stood and left the room, leaving Louis and Harry alone. Louis felt his heart rate immediately pick up, and he started clearing away the used plates and empty boxes, just to keep his hands busy. 

 

“You want help with that?” Harry asked politely, and Louis paused, taking Harry in once again. His hair was starting to fall into his eyes again, and Louis really almost reached over to brush it back. Almost. 

 

He just nodded in response and hurried off to the kitchen, dumping the mess on the counter and leaning against it, trying to catch his breath. Harry was just so … he didn’t even have a word for it, but his feelings were becoming overwhelming, and he was afraid that, if he let himself keep this up, he’d work himself into a panic attack. He certainly didn’t want Harry to see him like that. Not again. 

 

Harry followed a few moments later and Louis straightened himself up, turning to sort the trash from the dishes. He could feel Harry looking at him, but he didn’t say anything. That was strange - Harry always had something to say. Louis was about to turn around to make sure Harry was alright when Niall came bursting into the kitchen, a wild grin on his face.

 

“Guys … it’s snowing!”

 

Louis gasped, running to the window to see. White flakes were drifting past the street lamp outside, sparkling as they fluttered to the ground, already dusted with white. Louis didn’t waste any time. He very nearly sprinted for the door, grabbing his coat and sliding his shoes on before running outside and into the small car park. He looked up, immediately catching a few snowflakes in his eyes, but he didn’t care. He felt lighter than he had in months, and he just stood there, spinning around slowly as he stared at his surroundings. 

 

He couldn’t believe that there was snow, and it was sticking to the ground. In that moment, he felt like his mum and Vic were right there next to him. He could almost hear their delighted laughter as he held his arms out, opening his mouth to taste the frozen flakes on his tongue.

 

“It’s so beautiful,” Louis said, looking up again at the snow drifting from the dark night sky. He heard someone’s breath hitch behind him. His heart was suddenly in his throat as he turned, seeing Harry and Niall a few feet away from him. Harry’s eyes were wide, and Louis realized slowly what had just happened. He just kind of stood there, hardly daring to believe that the one thing he’d been trying to do for ages had just happened without him even thinking about it. And the thing was, he wasn’t scared, not even a little bit. In fact, he felt relieved. 

 

“I agree, Lou. Beautiful. And cold, mind you,” Niall said with a laugh, shivering. He’d forgotten his coat in his haste to follow Louis, apparently. Harry was still standing there, gaping at Louis, but then a huge smile took over his face.

 

“Beautiful,” he said, signing it while he said it, and Louis nodded.

 

“Beautiful,” he repeated, signing it back to Harry.

 

“Oi, you two, I’m freezing my tits off over here.”

 

Louis laughed at Niall’s outburst and walked back towards them, taking one last look at the sky before heading back into the flat with them. He hadn’t felt this happy in a very long time.

 

Louis felt the warmth of their flat surround him as Harry closed the door behind the three of them. He pulled off his coat and hurried to the window again, staring out at the beautiful scene. 

 

“How does tea and hot chocolate sound?” Niall said, popping his head out of the kitchen, and Louis nodded, making his way there. Niall was already pulling mugs from the cabinet, filling the kettle and flicking it on while Louis just looked on. Harry was there too, searching for tea bags. Louis opened his mouth to tell Harry to let him do it, but it seemed like his momentary ability to speak freely in front of Harry was gone. 

 

He tapped Harry’s shoulder to get his attention, and Harry turned, his eyes curious.

 

_ Let me? _ Louis signed, and Harry smiled, nodding and taking a step back. Louis reached into the appropriate cabinet and pulled out a variety of tea bags, offering them to Harry. Harry plucked a green one from the mix. Louis turned just as the kettle clicked off, and he busied himself making two cups of tea and one cup of hot chocolate, making sure to add just the right amount of cream to his, and a little sugar to Harry’s. 

 

He took them out to the main room, where Harry and Niall had flopped back into their seats, both waiting for Louis. He distributed the cups and then took a cautious sip of his. Perfect, as always. 

Harry lifted his cup to his lips and Louis went tense, hoping he’d done it right. He never used sugar if he could help it - he wasn’t quite sure how much one wanted. Harry smacked his lips and grinned up at Louis. “This is perfect. Seems like you were paying attention to my tea preferences.”

 

Louis blushed horribly and took another sip of his tea, trying his best to hide his rosy cheeks behind the cup. Niall started the movie back up and Louis settled down next to Harry, a little closer than before. It must be the snow making him feel brave, he thought as he set his tea on the table. As he sat back, his hand brushed against Harry’s ever so slightly, and he felt Harry jump a little. He swallowed down the rush of emotions and the desperate need to hold Harry’s hand, but when he looked up, he could have sworn Harry’s cheeks were tinged with pink. 

  
  


*

 

“Okay, let’s try this one again. I … like … cats …” Harry said, signing it slowly and smiling encouragingly at Louis. They’d been at this for two weeks now, getting Louis to say the words while signing them, and while some days were better than others, Louis found himself trusting Harry. Harry never pushed him, not ever. HE just worked with what he had and praised him for the small victories. Not even Tom had gotten Louis to speak sentences yet. 

 

Louis smiled back easily and he cleared his throat slightly, glad that most everyone at Hope Trust had headed home for the night. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to do this otherwise. He still had issues with speaking with others around, even when he and Harry were in their own little world, but he was trying. 

 

“I like cats,” he repeated aloud, although still quietly, signing it. Harry beamed at him, and Louis felt warm from his head right down to his toes. Harry’s smile did things to him that even he didn’t fully understand. 

 

“That was really good. Think it’s enough for today, though. You’ve got work soon, right?”

 

Louis was slightly shocked that Harry had even remembered, but he nodded in response to his question. 

 

“Yeah. Thank you.”

 

Harry tilted his head slightly as he stood pulling his jacket towards him. “For what, Lou?”

 

“For teaching me … and, umm … yeah,” Louis fumbled his last few words, swallowing down the ones he really wanted to say.

 

_ For treating me like a person. _

 

_ For helping me. _

 

_ For caring about me even when I’m fucked up. _

 

“I’m the one who should be thanking you, Louis,” Harry said softly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “You … I mean, even just a few weeks ago, you could barely look at me, and now you’ve trusted me enough to speak to me. I’m really honored. I never thought it would happen, and I was okay with that. I was just glad to have you in my life. And now I get to hear your beautiful voice and it just … thank you, Louis. For letting me in.”

 

Louis hated to admit it to himself, but he loved it when Harry rambled on like that. His words were always so thought out and blended beautifully together. And now here he was, using those words to thank him? It almost made Louis want to hug him and never let go. 

 

“Well, come on then,” Harry said, and his hand twitched at his side, almost as if he was going to hold it out for Louis to take. He honestly wouldn’t have minded, and that scared him a lot less than it used to. 

 

But now it was Louis’ turn to be confused. “Where?”

 

Harry laughed a little. “To work of course. As if I’d let you walk there by yourself. We can take my car. I need my fix of Carol’s tea, anyway.”

 

Louis found himself blushing at the prospect of having Harry take him to work, just the two of them. It made him think of the fantasies he used to have when he first realized he liked boys - sunlit walks in parks, picnics even when it was cold, nighttime walks in the snow, summer drives with the windows down. He loved the beauty of outside, and he’d always wanted to share it with someone. Maybe that someone could be Harry, one day. 

 

Louis followed Harry down to his car, wincing as the cold wind hit them. The forecast had been calling for snow for a week, but all they’d gotten was a bitterly cold wind, whipping at their hair and clothes every step they took outside. He was grateful that Harry had offered to drive. 

 

The trip was short, and Louis found himself wanting to stay in the warm car with Harry, listening to him sing along to the radio. Louis quite preferred that to standing behind a counter and waiting for someone to come in and terrorize him once again. 

 

“You going in, Lou?” Harry asked, and Louis nodded, but he didn’t move. The anxiety that had left him alone for a few days was starting to come back as he stared at the neon sign of The Yankee Diner. Despite Vince and his friends not being in for months now, Louis still associated work with them, and it made him feel sick. “Hey … Lou, look at me.”

 

Louis looked around, staring into Harry’s green eyes. He held the gaze, even though everything in him was screaming at him to look away before he became mesmerized and started staring like an idiot. 

 

“I’ll be right there at the counter. I’ll even stay your whole shift, you know I don’t mind. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

 

His eyes were wide, sincere, no trace of his usual smile. That’s how Louis knew Harry was serious. He wanted to tell him no, that he could handle it on his own, but he couldn’t. Not yet. He knew that deep down. He looked away and nodded shamefully, not wanting to look at Harry as he admitted that he needed help. He hated appearing weak, especially in front of Harry. 

 

Louis felt Harry’s pinky graze his own just barely, and a jolt ran through him, like electricity down his spine. It was something Louis had been unconsciously doing in the past week or so, just letting his pinky brush Harry’s hand or fingers. There was that longing, the feeling that had been burning in him for some time now, to touch Harry, to hold his hand or put an arm around his waist or even hug him. He thought starting small, like Harry had said all those weeks ago, was the way to go. Especially when he needed time to prepare himself for more. Now, he thought, he might be ready for more. 

 

He got out of the car, letting Harry follow him into the diner, and he slipped behind the counter, hurrying off to the employee bathroom to change. When he returned, he saw Carol and Harry having a chat at the end of the bar. It felt nice, knowing that the people who cared about him liked Harry. But he was working now. He pushed all of that away and began to clean tables, as was his usual job, trying to distract himself from anything and everything related to Harry. 

 

His shift passed slowly, but Harry was always there to provide him with a rant about the book he was reading - “ _ Love Is A Mix Tape  _ is honestly the best book ever, like it’s so funny but so sad, like a deep down kind of sad. I wish I could read it over again with a blank slate, that’s how much I love it.” - or just a comforting presence as customers ebbed and flowed.

 

Around three hours into his shift, he saw little white flakes flutter past the windows, and his heart lightened considerably. It was snowing again. He couldn’t wait to go outside and stand in it. Harry had noticed too, for he was staring at Louis with an expression that Louis couldn’t quite place - he thought it was something similar to adoration, but that couldn’t possibly be it. Maybe he was imagining things. 

 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out, hiding it under the counter as he pretended to fix the coffee pot. It was a text from Niall.

 

**From Ni: mate, my car won’t start … the snow’s really piling up now. can’t get to the diner. I’m so sorry. any way carol can bring you home?**

 

Louis swallowed hard and pocketed his phone again, his throat feeling tight. He knew Carol would insist on driving him home if he asked, but he didn’t want to put her in danger. If Niall wasn’t braving this weather, he didn’t want to place that burden on anyone else. But therein was another problem. It had been years since he’d spent a night with anyone other than Niall or his aunt. He didn’t have anything with him - no pajamas, no deodorant, no nothing. Not even the picture of his mum from the Blue Jay Program he’d taken to carrying with him everywhere. 

 

“Everything alright?” Harry asked as Louis refilled his cup with tea for the fourth time that night. Louis shook his head, his hands starting to shake as he pulled out his phone and handed it to Harry. Harry read it quickly, his face turning a little pale. “Oh, Lou … it’s alright. You can just … here, hold on, I’ve got this.”

 

Harry began tapping away at Louis’ phone, and Louis watched him, tugging on his shirt sleeves. When Harry was done, he handed the phone back to Louis as if it were nothing, and Louis looked down at the glowing screen. 

 

**To Ni: hey, niall, it’s H. Louis can stay with me. I don’t live far. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him.**

 

Louis stared at Harry in disbelief, feeling a mixture of heightened anxiety and elation. “Are … are you …” he stuttered, his voice barely a whisper. Harry nodded. 

 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve got an extra room, and I … I thought you’d be more comfortable staying with someone you, well … only if you want to. If not, I can try to drive you home, but I’m not sure how well my car’s gonna hold up in this weather. We may have to walk, if … umm, if that’s okay ...”

 

Louis shook his head furiously. He was not about to allow Harry to put his life on the line for him. No way. He’d just have to control his feelings as best as possible and hope that he woke up tomorrow having not done something stupid. 

 

“I’ll stay with you.”

 

Harry’s smile returned and he nodded, already beginning to pack up his things. The diner was completely empty now except for Harry, Louis, Carol, and some of the kitchen staff. At that moment, Carol came out of the kitchen, looking flushed. “I’ve just sent everyone home. Gonna close up now. Best if you two got home before this gets any worse.”

 

Louis stripped off his apron and hung it on the hook under the counter, turning to face Harry, who already had his coat on and was holding Louis’ out for him. Louis took it, feeling blush coating his cheeks at the simple gesture.

 

“Bet it’s beautiful out, yeah? Come on!” Harry said excitedly, pushing open the door of the diner. Louis stepped out into a winter wonderland. The streets were covered in a decent dusting of snow. The trees were glistening with it on their branches, and the wind blew frozen flakes into their faces. Louis spluttered and reached automatically for something to steady him. His hand grabbed something sturdy and he pulled himself to solid footing. He looked around and saw Harry standing there, looking a bit worried but still smiling. Louis looked down at their hands, which were still connected. All the air in Louis’ lungs felt like it had been sucked away. He was holding hands with Harry. He, Louis Tomlinson, was holding hands with Harry Styles. And he didn’t have any desire to pull away.

 

“Is this … I mean, I can let go, if you want. I just didn’t want you to fall,” Harry mumbled, and Louis was sure it wasn’t just the wind that was making Harry’s cheeks redden. Hope leaped inside him and he shook his head, holding onto Harry with even more force. He caught Harry’s smile as Harry turned away, making his way down the street. Louis followed, his hand securely in Harry’s, feeling like he’d just had the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders.

 

Harry had been right - his place wasn’t far. It only took them so long because the wind was blowing against them - they’d left his car behind. Harry said he’d come back for it in the morning - but they finally reached Harry’s building. They entered and took the stairs up to the third floor, where Harry stopped at the first door on the left, letting Louis’ hand go to pull out his keys. Louis felt disappointed at their loss of contact, but didn’t dare initiate it on purpose. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he tried, and he didn’t want to ruin this, whatever this was. 

 

Harry’s flat was exactly what Louis had expected from him. The colors were light and the furniture was dark, setting a nice even tone for the room. The lighting was soft, allowing lights to stay on but not cause a glare on the telly. It was clean too, almost immaculate. Blankets were folded and shoes were lined up by the door and all the chairs at the table in the small kitchen were pushed in. It was a home, and Louis loved it. 

 

He found himself staring at the pictures on the wall as he toed off his shoes, now soaking wet from the melted snow. He saw several pictures of Harry with Liam, and Harry with two beautiful women he didn’t know. In every single picture, Harry was smiling, and Louis inwardly melted at little 14 year old Harry with messy, frizzy curls and cheeks like a cherub. 

 

“Ah, I see you’ve found the most embarrassing pictures of me,” Harry said behind him, and Louis jumped, almost having forgotten Harry was here. “Sorry,” Harry whispered, coming into Louis’ line of sight. “Yeah, that’s me and my mum and sister. We’re in most of those, actually. I keep them up for nostalgia’s sake. That was a different life, almost, compared to the one I want to lead now. I miss them a lot, though.” 

 

Harry drifted off, lost in memories, and Louis finally took his jacket off, hanging it by the door with Harry’s others. Now that he was here, now that it was starting to sink in that he was staying here overnight with the guy he was crushing on, he felt extremely shy. He really just wanted to sit in a corner and not be seen. 

 

“I can make some hot chocolate, if you like. I like to put a bit of peppermint in mine, and marshmallows. Lots of those. It gives it a foamy top - what do you say?”

 

Louis nodded, smiling at the thought. He wanted to say something, anything, but words weren’t coming to him right now. It was all a jumble of feelings and trying to push those feelings away, and he knew that even if he did say something, it wouldn’t be what he wanted to say.

 

When Harry finally came out of the kitchen, Louis had settled himself on the sofa, taking the corner for himself. He liked being in the corner. It was always warmer there, for some reason. Harry set the cups down on the table and then stood there, taking a deep breath. 

 

“Can I sit next to you?” he asked, and Louis looked up, rolling his eyes. 

 

“It’s your flat,” he replied quietly. Harry’s face lit up visibly at the sound of his voice, and Louis wasn’t sure what to make of that. He didn’t want to overthink it. He didn’t want to start assuming things and then be crushed. He’d had enough heartbreak in his life. 

 

“Yeah, I know, but I know you like your space, and I … I didn’t want to sit there if you didn’t want me to,” Harry mumbled, looking sheepish. Louis felt quite warm at that. No one really considered him like that, not even Niall sometimes. It was different - nice, actually. 

 

Louis reached out and patted the space next to him, and Harry, looking only a little surprised, took his seat, sitting close but not too close. Louis wished they were closer. He kind of wanted to lay his head on Harry’s chest and hear his heartbeat. 

 

“Shall we watch something then? I don’t have any cool board games, so I figured a movie would be best,” Harry suggested, and Louis nodded. 

 

“You pick.”

 

“Oh, I already have. I was hoping you’d say that.”

 

Harry was grinning as he hopped up, pulled a DVD from his extensive collection - Louis had missed it before, but now he could see just how many movies Harry had - and popped into the player, settling down and almost vibrating with excitement. 

 

“Have you ever seen Love, Actually?”

 

Louis shook his head no, and Harry gasped, putting a hand to his heart in mock surprise. 

 

“Oh, Louis, you’re in for a treat. It’s one of my favorite movies of all time. Some people say it’s not a Christmas movie, but I say it is. It happens at Christmas - therefore, it’s a Christmas movie. But I also watch it in April, and July, and any time I feel like it, so it really can be anything you want.” Harry’s face was alight as he spoke, his eyes sparkling and his smile wide. Louis loved this look on Harry - it was just Harry, purely, completely Harry. “I love rom-coms. Makes me believe in that kind of love, you know? The kind that you aren’t really looking for but you fall into all at once? I’ve always wanted a love story like that. Just have to find the right guy, or girl, or anyone, really. They just have to … fit, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I … I know,” Louis said, very nearly choking on his own words. His heart was beating a steady rhythm against his chest:  _ HarryHarryHarryHarry _ . He pressed his lips together as Harry nestled back into the cushions of the sofa, bouncing up and down excitedly as the opening credits began to roll. And suddenly, Louis found himself immersed in it. 

 

Harry had been right - this movie was amazing. So many different stories, and somehow, Louis found himself relating to all of them. It was just one of those things, sitting here with Harry and watching people fall in and out of love. It made him want to do something about his own situation. 

 

Harry’s arm moved suddenly, draping across the back of the couch, and Louis looked over at him curiously. 

 

“Oh, sorry, I … I’m used to sprawling out, I can just …” He started to withdraw his arm, but Louis shook his head, inching closer to Harry. Harry watched in silence as Louis carefully tucked himself up against Harry’s side, just barely touching, but it was enough. Louis felt bold, brave, and maybe it was just the movie love seeping into his desires, but he wanted to be held by Harry. Right here and right now, even if it didn’t mean anything. “Lou … is this okay? Are you sure?”

 

Louis looked up from where he’d nestled his head, just touching Harry’s shoulder, and nodded. He wasn’t sure how or why, but this was exactly where he wanted to be. In a strange reversal of roles, Harry seemed the one to be hesitant, but he nevertheless looped his arm around Louis’ shoulders, his hand coming to rest gently on his arm. 

 

Louis sighed, feeling more free than he had in a very long time. He thought about saying that, but he didn’t want to just blurt out his feelings right then and there. Small steps. Baby steps. This was probably several steps up from their pinky touching, but something in Louis told him this was alright. This was safe. 

 

They watched the rest of the movie in relative silence, just living in the moments on the screen. When they reached the end, Louis felt Harry’s breathing change, and he looked up to see tears in his eyes. Harry caught him looking and blushed, brushing at his eyes. 

 

“Sorry. Gets me every time, that ending. It’s so … poetic and real, you know? Some love works and some love doesn’t, but in the end, as long as the person you love is happy, even if it’s not with you, that’s enough, right?”

 

Louis nodded, and Harry gave a watery laugh, tears still sliding down his cheeks. Louis didn’t like that. He didn’t want Harry to be sad, but he didn’t know how to say that, or how to comfort him. 

 

Louis had always been one to think before he did, even before his mum and sister were taken from him. He wasn’t very good at the spontaneous. But tonight was different. Tonight, he was defying every single rule he’d ever made for himself, and it wasn’t because he necessarily consciously wanted to - it was Harry. Harry made him feel like he could be more than who and what he was. Harry made him feel brave. Before he could think, before he could even comprehend what his body was doing, he was leaning into Harry, pressing his lips to Harry’s wet cheek and kissing his tears away. 

 

He held his position for about a second before reality hit him. Everything came crashing down on him all at once - his close proximity to Harry, his lips against his soft cheek, his feelings being right there for Harry to see - and he felt his throat constrict. 

 

He pulled himself away from Harry as fast as he could, cowering into the corner of the couch. His hands were trembling as he tried to tell Harry he was sorry. He signed it over and over again, feeling tears sliding freely down his face. He couldn’t believe that after everything he’d done to prevent his heartbreak, he’d been the cause of it in the end. Harry would never want to see him again, and he’d be alone. Alone in his thoughts and his fears and his anxieties. When he was with Harry, all of that went away. He felt like himself. But that was over now. He knew it, and it was all his fault. 

 

“Lou … Louis, please, I … please look at me.”

 

Harry’s voice was soothing, soft and slow as always, but Louis shook his head. He didn’t want to see the pity in Harry’s eyes when he looked at him. How could he have even thought that someone like Harry would like someone like him?

 

“Louis … I need to see your eyes. Come on, please.”

 

Louis wanted to listen to him. His body did it for him, even though his mind was a constant stream of how much he’d fucked this up. But there he was, looking blearily through his tears into Harry’s beautiful green eyes. 

 

“Lou, I’ve got to ask you something. Want you to be honest with me, yeah?” Harry said quietly, and Louis just nodded miserably, knowing that there was no point in hiding anything now. Harry already knew. This was his way of letting Louis down easy. “Do you … I mean to say, do you regret what just happened? Would you take it back?”

 

The correct answer was complicated. Louis wanted to take it back, of course he did. He wasn’t ready to deal with the consequences of his feelings, and he could feel panic building in his chest as his mind raced. But on the other hand, this was everything he’d ever wanted. He wanted to be with Harry, he wanted to feel his skin under his fingers, under his lips. He wanted Harry to know how he felt and to feel that way back.

 

Louis finally managed to shake his head, pulling his knees to his chest in an effort to draw himself away from the pain that was surely coming. 

 

“Do you want to … to kiss me?” 

 

Harry’s voice was quieter this time, his question tentative, which didn’t match up with the worries in Louis’ mind. He pressed his lips together and nodded, looking away. He couldn’t watch Harry turn him away, he just couldn’t bear it. It wasn’t until Harry’s voice came again that he managed to look up once more. 

 

“Are you scared?”

 

When he looked up, Harry was a little closer, leaning in as though anticipating Louis’ answer, whatever it would be. Louis whimpered and nodded again, fresh tears pooling in his eyes. He couldn’t express to Harry in any way how terrified he was right now, but he hoped that would be enough. 

 

Harry’s gaze softened, and his eyes looked wet too. “Me too, Lou. I’m so fucking scared. I’m scared of losing you. I’m scared that I’m going to do the wrong thing and make you pull away from me. I’m scared of how much I like you, and how much I’d really love it if you’d kiss me for real.”

 

Louis stared at him, lifting a hand to wipe away the tears that still lingered on his cheeks. If he was hearing correctly, Harry just said that he wanted to kiss him. But he couldn’t have been, because no one had ever wanted that with him. And why would they? He was a fucking mess. Any kind of relationship with him, be it friend or therapist or boyfriend, was loaded down with his baggage. 

 

“W-why me?” Louis stuttered, slowly starting to unfold himself, though he was still trembling. Harry’s shoulders dropped and he sighed.

 

“Oh, Louis … you don’t know how special you are, do you? I never cared about your muteness, or your anxiety, or any of that. To me, you’re just Louis, my sweet Louis, who sees the world differently. You’re endlessly fascinating and I … I’d give anything to make you feel safe enough around me that you can be free to express yourself. I don’t want to be the reason you hold back - I want to be the reason you let go.”

 

Louis let out a strangled sob and moved forward, pushing himself into Harry’s arms and tucking his face into his neck, holding him tightly. This was where he wanted to be. This was it, everything, right here. Harry was warm and solid and he held Louis delicately, but with purpose. 

 

Louis sniffed and pulled away slightly, so that their faces were mere inches apart. Harry’s eyes were wide, his lips parted slightly, and Louis wanted nothing more than to kiss him. 

 

“Can … can I …” he asked, and Harry just nodded, cupping Louis’ face gently in his hands. Louis’ heart was about to beat out of his chest, but he didn’t care. He closed the gap between them, their lips meeting for the first time. 

 

Few things had made him feel like this - the day his mum brought Vic home, the day they got lost on their vacation to Venice, which they’d saved up for years to go on, and ended up eating bad gelato next to the canal, the day he came out to his mum and she held him for a long time, telling him how proud she was. Kissing Harry was like that - he felt excitement and nerves and pleasure and relief all at once, all culminating into the most spectacular feeling of love. Harry’s lips were soft, just as soft as Louis had imagined a thousand times, and Harry held him so gently and moved his lips so slowly that Louis swore time had stopped moving around them. 

 

When they finally pulled away from each other, Louis was panting, the draw of Harry’s lips too big a temptation. Harry leaned their foreheads together, both of them breathing the same air.

 

“Louis … Louis,” Harry murmured. The way he said Louis’ name made Louis’ heart do backflips, and he nuzzled Harry’s nose gently with his own. 

 

“Harry …”

 

Harry smiled, sneaking in for a quick peck on the lips. “Never heard you say my name before. I like it … I like how you say it.”

 

Louis laughed, pulling himself close to Harry, and they sat there, holding each other, as the ending credits finally finished, the music fading to nothing.

 

*

 

**> H <**

 

“I’ll let you have my room, I can sleep in the guest room,” Harry said softly as he and Louis walked down the small hallway, hands linked between them. Harry’s heart felt light as air, and he gave Louis’ hand a small squeeze. Louis looked up at him, his blue eyes free of any terror for the first time since Harry had known him, and he smiled. His smile was dazzling, one of the most beautiful things Harry had ever seen. 

 

“Thank you,” Louis whispered, leaning in a bit jerkily to kiss his cheek. Harry didn’t mind. They were both still trying to wrap their heads around what had happened. Harry hadn’t expected any of it, not in the near future, anyway. He would have been happy waiting for Louis for years if he had to, but Louis didn’t seem to want to wait. Harry wanted whatever made him happy. But this was still strange and new to both of them. Harry had been with someone before, of course, but he didn’t think Louis had. Either way, they had both agreed that this was something they’d discuss in the morning, after having slept on it. 

 

“If you need anything, I’ll be right across the hall, yeah? Everything you should need is in the bathroom, and feel free to wear any of my clothes to bed.”

 

“What about you?” Louis asked, turning to face Harry properly. Harry swallowed - he really was so beautiful. It was hard to think when Louis looked at him like that, so innocent, so kind and curious. 

 

“I, uh, I sleep naked?” Harry blurted out, slapping his hand to his mouth the moment he realized what he’d said. Louis looked away bashfully, blushing in that adorable way he always did, and Harry let out a small embarrassed laugh, giving Louis’ hand another squeeze. “Goodnight, Lou.”

 

Louis moved in closer to him, and Harry dipped his head down, letting their lips touch briefly. His body and his mind and his heart ached for more, to just stand there and kiss Louis breathless, but Harry held back. They had to talk first. 

 

“Goodnight, Harry,” Louis said in return, signing it as he spoke. Harry smiled, pecked Louis’ lips one more time, and turned away, closing himself off in the guest bedroom. It was then that he allowed himself to truly feel the enormity of everything that had happened tonight. He sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, his face hurting with the strength of his smile. 

 

Harry didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he’d been gone for Louis from the moment they’d met in the diner. Louis was so soft and delicate and his eyes held a story that Harry wanted to know, even though he had a pretty good idea how much pain there was there. After learning who Louis was, all he wanted to do was just sit with him and talk and hug him and take all the memories away. No one should have to live with that kind of misery hanging over them. Not alone. 

 

But it hadn’t been easy. Louis had scared Harry many times, not on purpose but it had happened, and it made Harry wary. He was scared of saying the wrong thing, of accidentally touching him, of doing the smallest thing wrong that would send him to a dark place that Harry couldn’t bring him back from. He was very careful with everything he did around Louis, even though he had a feeling that Louis would never ask it of him. 

 

That’s why tonight had been such a surprise. Louis, who spent most of his time shying away from any kind of contact, even with Niall sometimes, had willingly held Harry’s hand, even when Harry gave him an out. He’d let Harry hold him, kiss him, even. It was a lot for Harry to handle, even if it was everything he’d been wanting since day one. He just didn’t want to fuck it up in any way. He wanted to be worthy of Louis’ feelings. He wanted to be the person Louis deserved to have in his life, not just another passerby who treated him like he was a problem to fix. 

 

Harry stripped down to his boxers and settled back onto the bed - it was true, he did normally sleep naked, but he wasn’t quite ready to give Louis a show, if for some reason Louis needed him. He wanted to take things slow, all at whatever pace Louis decided he wanted, if he wanted it at all. 

 

With the memory of Louis’ lips on his, Harry closed his eyes and drifted off peacefully into sleep.

 

*

 

Harry opened his eyes blearily, confused as to why he was awake. Everything seemed quiet and calm, like it should be at two in the morning. He looked around, but nothing had changed since he’d fallen asleep. 

 

And then he heard a sound. The walls of his flat weren’t thick, but they weren’t thin either. But Harry was definitely hearing something … it sounded like someone talking. He stood up, suddenly nervous. Were there robbers in his house? What if they stole everything he had?  _ What if they went after Louis? _

 

Harry stumbled to his feet, grabbing the thickest book he could find, and eased the door of the guest bedroom open, peering into the hallway. No one was there, but he could still hear the voice. It was coming from his own bedroom. 

 

He edged closer to the door, which was ajar, and waited, listening intently. 

 

“No … no, don’t make me go back. Don’t … please …”

 

Harry felt his breath catch in his chest. It was Louis’ voice he was hearing. Despite Louis talking more and more to him over the last few weeks, Harry still almost didn’t recognize his voice at first. But that wasn’t the problem here - the problem was that Louis was begging, pleading to someone who wasn’t even here. 

 

Easing the door open, Harry slipped into his own bedroom, placing the book gently on the floor and looking over at his bed. There was Louis, all twisted in the covers, his face beaded with sweat. His lips moved constantly, some words coming out, some mere whispers of air. 

 

“I can’t go back … Please, you’re hurting me …” 

 

His voice broke, and with it, Harry’s heart. Harry flicked on the small light and hurried over to the side of his bed and just stood there, not knowing what to do. Louis was dreaming, having a night terror, if he remembered what Niall had told him correctly. Everything Harry had ever been taught about sleep talking and sleepwalking was to never wake the person up unless they were in danger of injuring themselves. But this seemed like as good a time as any to make an exception.

 

Louis was crying now - Harry could see the tears glistening on his cheeks, and as Harry reached out to touch Louis’ arm, he felt his body shivering violently.

 

“Lou … Louis, can you hear me? It’s Harry … you’re dreaming, love.” Harry swallowed, willing himself to keep his voice under control. If he was going to pull Louis out of this, he had to be calm. “What you’re seeing isn’t real. I’m real, I’m right here. Come back to me.” He reached out and took Louis’ hand, rubbing a gentle thumb over the back of it.

 

“C-c-can’t … need help … help me … hurts …” Louis whimpered, his words jerky and unconnected. Harry let out a dry sob and pulled himself closer to Louis, gathering his shaking body into his arms. 

 

“Louis, wake up. Please wake up,” Harry pleaded, looking up at the ceiling in an attempt to stop his tears from falling. “I don’t know what to do …” he whispered to himself, to anyone who was listening. He just wanted to help Louis, and he had no idea how to do it. 

 

Louis gave a shuddering gasp and jerked in Harry’s arms, waking up. Harry looked down at him, trying to soothe him in the quietest way possible so as not to startle him. Louis shook his head violently and peeled himself away from Harry’s hold, very nearly falling off the bed in his haste to get away from him. Harry ignored the hurt building in his chest. 

 

“Lou … you alright?”

 

It was a fair question, Harry thought. He knew Louis was far from alright, but he felt like he should ask it anyway, give Louis a chance to explain or talk about it if he wanted to. Louis buried his face in his knees, the sobs taking over his whole body now as he clearly tried to fight off a panic attack. 

 

“I … I …” 

 

Harry could hear Louis trying to speak, but the words were too hard for him. Harry hesitated to reach out again, not wanting to hurt Louis more than he was already hurting. 

 

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, just breathe for me. In and out, nice and slow. You’re okay. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

 

Harry just kept talking - he was good at that - saying soothing words and reminding Louis that he was there, that he was a constant presence even if Louis couldn’t communicate with him. He wasn’t even aware of what he was saying, he just hoped that his words would help. 

 

Eventually, Louis looked up at him through bloodshot blue eyes, his gaze sad and embarrassed. Harry didn’t want that. He didn’t want Louis to be embarrassed about anything around him. 

 

_ You’re safe with me _ , he signed, hoping that their method of communication would calm Louis somehow. It seemed to do the trick. Louis took several long breaths, wiping at his eyes. He raised his hand and held it up as the letter H, tapping it twice over his heart. Harry’s name. Over and over again. It seemed the only thing he could remember.

 

“Lou, can I … do you want me to hold you?” Harry asked, completely unsure of what to do now. Louis shook his head, but he reached out his hand, and Harry slowly took it again. Louis seemed to visibly relax, the tension going out of his shoulders as he linked his fingers through Harry’s. Harry shuffled so he was in a better position for Louis, and leaned back against the headboard, feeling completely drained. Louis had curled in a ball on his side, clutching Harry’s hand but not moving any closer. 

 

Harry stayed where he was, long after Louis’ breaths had evened out. 

 

*

 

**> L <**

 

Louis woke as suddenly as if someone had poked him hard in the side. He looked around frantically, forgetting for a moment where he was. His eyes landed on Harry’s snoring form next to him, and he felt himself relax, the tight knot of panic in his chest slowly unravelling. 

 

It was still hard for him to grasp how calm Harry made him feel. Even when he was panicking, even when he didn’t want to be touched or couldn’t get a single word out, Harry’s mere presence made him feel more grounded. I guess that’s what love does, Louis thought to himself, and then the panic was back. What was he thinking? He couldn’t possibly be in love with Harry … could he? Their kiss from the night before certainly pointed in that direction, but was he ready for that? For anything at all?

 

Harry stirred next to him, cracking open one beautiful green eye. He was so beautiful like this, so rumpled and sleepy and soft, but Louis didn’t get to appreciate it for long. Harry sat up suddenly, rubbing the sleep furiously from his eyes and looking at Louis, his gaze wary.

 

“Lou … you’re awake.”

 

His voice was scratchy and lower than usual - it made Louis shiver. He just nodded in response to Harry’s words, not quite sure what to say or where to start. 

 

“I wanted to make sure you were alright, you know, after, umm … last night,” Harry said slowly, picking at the duvet cover. Louis flushed, fragments of his dream coming back to him. He’d been remembering one of his first trips to the therapist - his aunt had dragged him to it. It was the one appointment she’d ever bothered to help him to, and of course, Louis had fought her tooth and nail. He’d hated his therapists, every single one of them. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Louis mumbled, shoving the memories away. He didn’t want to think about his past right now, or at all, for that matter. But not thinking about it just left more room for his embarrassment and shame. “I … I don’t want … umm …” Louis could feel his hands starting to shake, and he clenched his fists. He was so tired of being afraid to talk, especially to someone like Harry, who made him feel like there was nothing wrong with him at all, that he was normal and not this fucked up version of a human being. “I don’t want you to see me weak.”

 

Harry’s green eyes filled with tears and Louis felt his heart sink. That wasn’t what he wanted, not at all. He just wanted Harry to understand why he’d refused his offer of comfort. Louis reached out and touched Harry’s fingertips with his own. Harry had been right about that too - about physical touch. Sometimes, it was the best way to communicate how you were feeling, even if it terrified you. 

 

“Louis, I … I never see you as weak. You’re always strong to me, so strong. You’ve suffered from these night terrors, these … memories, for longer than I’ve known you, and … I wouldn’t be able to handle it, if I were you. I would have given up long ago, but you. You go through them and wake up to live another day, even when your heart is heavy. I’m in awe of you.” 

 

Harry’s cheeks were bright red as he brushed a few stray tears away, and Louis felt his own eyes growing wet. He swallowed, raising his hands to signing level.  _ Harry, you make me strong _ , he signed slowly, wanting to make sure Harry understood. He did it again, and then again, until Harry raised his hands and held Louis’ tightly in his own. 

 

“You’re strong without me, Louis. But … thank you. It means the world that you see me that way.”

 

Louis gave Harry a small smile and kept his hand in Harry’s, enjoying the warmth and comfort it brought him. He almost leaned in to kiss Harry’s cheek, but he hesitated. What if what they’d done last night was a one time thing? It was possible that Harry had just given in to what Louis had wanted so as not to upset him. Plenty of people had done that before.  

 

“C’mon, Lou. I’ll make breakfast for us, then,” Harry said softly, giving Louis’ hand a squeeze before letting go and hurrying out to the kitchen. Louis sat for a moment, trying to get his nerves under control. Now that he was remembering last night, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He could still feel Harry’s lips on his, like the ghost of a kiss, and he wanted more, despite how scared he was that, if anything became of it, Harry would leave him as soon as he became too big of a problem. But the question was: how was he going to communicate that to Harry?

 

Louis made his way to the kitchen, settling silently in one of the wooden chairs and staring out the window. The world beyond was blanketed in white, and it made him smile. As much as he hated the cold, he loved the snow. Maybe it was the magic feeling that snow gave him that helped him to speak up.

 

“Harry … about l-last night …” 

 

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he stopped speaking abruptly. Harry, who had been whisking eggs in a bowl, turned slowly, placing the bowl on the counter and looking almost apprehensively at Louis. 

 

“Right … I suppose we should talk about … right?” Harry stumbled, and he looked almost as scared as Louis felt. But before Louis could say anything, Harry plowed on. “I … before you say anything, I just want to … I think I’ve known you long enough and well enough to say that you don’t do things you don’t mean. And with your aversion to physical touch, I don’t think you’d kiss just anyone. But I totally understand if it was just a comfort thing? I don’t know … I just … what I’m trying to say is … god, Lou …”

 

Louis’ heart was racing as Harry’s words echoed in his mind. He opened his mouth, took a deep breath, and closed it again, not knowing how to respond without just saying those three words that had been floating around in his head since the moment their lips had touched last night. 

 

“I wanted to,” Louis finally said, forcing the words out. He wanted Harry to know. He didn’t know why, because he’d never trusted anyone like this, but Harry was different. Harry was … Harry. And Louis knew that he couldn’t lie to him. It wouldn’t be right. “You make me feel safe. Happy. I wanted to.” Louis repeated trying to make sure that Harry understood. 

 

Harry took a few steps nearer, away from the kitchen and towards the table, and Louis stood up abruptly, suddenly feeling the need to be on his feet. He was nervous, but this time, it was in a good way, almost in anticipation for what might happen. For what he wanted to happen. 

 

“Do you still … want to, I mean? Cause it’s okay if you don’t, I’ll understand. I’m okay with being your friend, I just want you to feel comfortable around me. I want to make sure that I don’t hurt you, because I couldn’t live with myself if I did,” Harry babbled, and Louis took a step nearer, his whole body aching with the need to kiss Harry, to make Harry understand that he wanted it just as badly as Harry seemed to. 

 

“Please,” Louis whispered, signing it as he stepped into Harry’s reach. Harry’s hands touched his arms lightly, sliding down over his wrists until Harry was holding his hands, and they were suddenly inches apart. 

 

Louis let his eyes close as Harry’s lips just barely brushed his. He felt like a live wire - every part of him that was touched by Harry was humming with an energy that he’d only ever experienced with Harry. He didn’t want it to stop. He wanted to leave his past, his pain, all of it, behind, and live a life where all he felt was this connection between them.

 

“Louis … god, we … breakfast,” Harry breathed between presses of their lips. Louis nodded and pulled away, pressing his lips together and feeling his cheeks turn pink. Harry wasn’t much better off - his lips were wet and bright, and Louis once again felt butterflies in his stomach as he took Harry in. 

 

Harry gave Louis a nervous smile, which Louis returned, and he followed Harry to the kitchen, eager to watch Harry cook. 

 

“So …” Harry said as they finished up their eggs and toast, swallowing down the last of his water. “What, umm … what do you want to be? I was thinking boyfriends, but partners works too, or maybe special friends? Or nothing, if you just want to be casual, no label, I’m down for that too, I … what?”

 

Louis laughed, a laugh that was out loud instead of silent, and played with Harry’s fingers, thinking, until he remembered what he wanted to say. He raised his right hand to his forehead, closing his thumb and fingers together, and then brought his left hand up, taking his pointer fingers and pressing them together twice, right hand on top, then left hand. As he did it, he spoke the word he had been dying to use for weeks now, the sound of it coming from his lips like a breath of fresh air. 

 

“Boyfriend.”

  
  


*

  
  


Louis had barely stepped through the door to his flat, stomping his feet and shivering from the bitterly cold wind outside, when Niall rounded the corner from the kitchen, a smirk already in place. 

 

“So … how was it at Harry’s, then?”

 

Louis tried to shrug it off, he really did, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. All the way home, he’d been repeating their conversation from this morning in his head, remembering the way Harry spoke so kindly about him, the way Harry had held him, cradled his face as they kissed. 

 

Niall didn’t miss his terribly contained grin. On the contrary, his face broke into a huge smile and he reached for Louis’ wrist, pulling him into the main room and plopping them both down on the sofa. “Tell me everything.”

 

Louis rolled his eyes at his best friend - he was acting like a child, like an American high school girl needing to know the latest gossip. But for some reason, Louis found it endearing - in the past few years, they’d rarely had an opportunity to talk like this, to be sitting down, both of them excited for the future. It was all therapy appointments and breakdowns and night terrors. For once, things seemed to be okay, and Louis wanted nothing more than to scream it to the world, to shout it from the rooftops. 

 

He wound up telling Niall everything, starting from their session and work and the movie the night before to their first kiss, and then through his night terror and Harry helping him through it. His voice faltered and he had to pause several times to find it again, but when he got to the end of his story, to the part where he and Harry had decided to be boyfriends, it was his smile and his happiness that was rendering him speechless. 

 

Niall sat there, just smiling back at Louis, and then pulled him into a tight hug. Louis went willingly, his heart light and happy, and let Niall hold him there for a while. When they pulled back, Niall had tears in his eyes. 

 

“Lou, I haven’t seen you this happy in years. I’m - I’m just so fucking happy for you. You deserve this, you really do.”

 

“Thanks, Ni,” Louis replied, wiping away some of his own happy tears.

 

“God, I gotta go text Harry, I’ve got to have words with him about dating my best friend,” Niall said suddenly, jumping up and running off to his room for his phone.

 

Louis pulled out his own phone then to see a new message from Harry. They’d exchanged numbers weeks ago when they’d first started their sign language lessons, but for the first time, Harry wasn’t texting him about that. Louis opened it and stared down at the screen, a stray tear splashing onto it. 

 

**From H: I’ve never been this happy. Thank you Lou, for trusting me. I won’t let you down, boyfriend xx**

 

*

 

“Louis, you’ve made excellent progress. I’m honored to finally hear your voice, and I can’t wait to see where we go from here,” Tom said jovially, and Louis smiled, feeling the praise wash over him. 

 

Today had been a particularly good session. He’d been so content these last few weeks that he’d walked into his session and said good afternoon to Tom without even thinking twice. They had proceeded to do Louis’ usual exercises, and even progressed to longer sentences, and multiple ones at a time. Louis was proud of himself, for once. 

 

Tom said a few more things and then opened his door, letting Louis out into the main area. There were a lot of people in today. Since the start of the year, the Blue Jay Program had gotten a lot of momentum, and more and more people were starting to prefer it to the hospital dictated therapy places. But that also meant that Louis had to deal with more crowds, something he still wasn’t comfortable with. 

 

He focused on his feet, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth as he made his way towards the stairs. He was going to be meeting Harry at his and Niall’s flat today, since Harry had the day off, which meant that he had to navigate getting home by himself. It was the first time in a very long time that he’d be doing it, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t absolutely terrified. 

 

He felt a hand touch his wrist and he jerked away from it, nearly running into the wall in the process. 

 

“Lou, it’s just me. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

Louis looked up into a pair of brilliant green eyes and felt slightly more calm. He reached automatically for Harry’s hand, feeling safer with Harry’s palm clasped in his own. 

 

“I thought ... “ Louis started, looking around nervously at all the people passing them, glancing at them, probably thinking about what they were going to tell their friends later about the weird mute kid.

 

“Louis, hey. Look at me.”

 

Louis did as he was asked, focusing on the flecks of gold in Harry’s eyes. He knew he was doing it again, thinking too much, letting too many opinions and thoughts run wild in his mind, but he couldn’t help it. It was all so much, but Harry was here, he was right in front of him. Wherever Harry was, he knew he was safe. 

 

“You’re alright. You’re with me. Came to walk you home. Thought you might want a buddy,” Harry said softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Louis’ hand. Louis closed his eyes, leaning his forehead gently against Harry’s as he tried to block out all the noise surrounding them. 

 

He opened his eyes again, his face so close to Harry’s, and he wanted to kiss him. His body ached for it. But he wasn’t yet good at doing anything in public. He wanted what he and Harry had to just be theirs. 

 

“I know. I want to as well. But we can just walk … hold hands, maybe? And when we get to yours, maybe …” Harry said slowly, and Louis nodded, taking a deep breath in and signing thank you before they headed down the stairs together and out into the grey afternoon. 

 

They walked down the street hand in hand, and for a moment, Louis could almost believe that nothing of the last two years had happened. He was just walking with his boyfriend, holding hands without a care in the world, and it felt amazing, even if it was only a temporary escape from his reality. 

 

They reached the flat before Niall, as his car wasn’t in the car park yet, and Louis unlocked the door, letting himself and Harry in. They took their coats off and Louis let Harry hang them both while he headed into the kitchen to make some tea. He was just turning on the kettle when he felt Harry come up behind him, and his hands landed perfectly on his waist. Louis hesitated only slightly before leaning his head back onto Harry’s shoulder. He was still getting used to being touched so intimately, even if waist touching was child’s play for anyone else. It was just like he expected any minute for it to be ripped away from him, leaving him with only his darkest memories and fears. 

 

Louis turned in Harry’s hold, now facing him, and smiled. Harry smiled too, pulling Louis in a little closer. 

 

“Hi, Lou,” he whispered, leaning in to touch his lips to Louis’. Louis felt the usual spark of arousal at the softness of Harry’s lips, and reached up to cup the back of Harry’s neck, pulling him into a deeper kiss. Harry went with it, and Louis whimpered as he let his lips part, Harry’s tongue just barely starting to explore the inside of his mouth. They’d never done this before, but Louis wasn’t about to pull away. He wanted more, he wanted to be closer to Harry, he wanted to bruise Harry’s lips with his own.

 

The door of the flat opened, and they pulled away from each other, Louis feeling extremely hot, even though he was only in a t-shirt and jeans. His hand moved to his hair, which Harry had been starting to run his fingers through moments before, and attempted to fix it. Harry didn’t look much better. His cheeks and neck were flushed a delicate pink, and his eyes were wide.

 

“Hellooooo, lovers,” Niall sing-songed, stopping dead in the doorway of the kitchen and surveying the scene. “Whoops. Seems like I interrupted … well, the kettle’s done now, anyway.” He gave a very large wink in Louis’ direction and walked off to change. Louis let out a breathy laugh, cuddling into Harry’s arms for a moment before pouring them both generous cups of tea. 

 

“Sorry I got a bit …” Louis mumbled. Niall’s interruption had brought him back to Earth, and he felt slightly embarrassed of what he’d done now. Surely, Harry wouldn’t like being come onto like that, in the kitchen of all places. But Harry shook his head, accepting his tea. 

 

“Don’t, Lou. Don’t apologize. You, umm, you wanted more and I was perfectly willing to give it. I wanted more, too. You don’t have to be afraid to say, or show me, what you want.”

 

Louis blushed furiously, trying to keep his mind from straying to certain things he’d already imagined doing with Harry. He thought, by the look on Harry’s face, that Harry might have been thinking along the same lines. 

 

They settled on the sofa, turning on the telly and turning the volume way down, just for some background noise. They sat cross legged from each other, and for the next hour, they conversed in mostly silence. Louis had learned enough of the basics that he was now doing whole sentences and even conversations. He had become more confident in talking to Harry, but he liked that they had this, something that was just theirs, a secret language of sorts. 

 

It was during their dinner of pesto pasta and broccoli that Harry brought up something that Louis had been thinking about quite a lot. 

 

“So … Lou, I kinda wanna take you on a date.”

 

The sounds of their forks stopped abruptly, Niall’s halfway to his mouth as he sat there, frozen, watching their exchange. Louis had to admit he was a bit of a weirdo. 

 

“I … umm, I don’t know if I could …” Louis stuttered, suddenly feeling nervous. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go on a date with Harry - he wanted that more than anything. He wanted to further their relationship, he wanted to have nights out where it was just them. But the thought of going to a restaurant, one that wasn’t his work, where he knew people, was daunting. He hadn’t been out to eat like that since before the incident.

 

Harry clearly sensed his distress and swallowed his bite of pasta, flapping his hands around as he tried to speak through the food. “No, no, I mean … we don’t have to go out, go out. I’d be happy to just cook something for you at home. Turn on some nice music, or Harry Potter, if you’re into that. Light some candles. Just have time for you and me. I’d really, really like that.” 

 

Louis felt his cheeks flushing delicately at the thought, and in his mind’s eye, he could see Harry in a nice suit jacket, his curls brushing his shoulders, holding out his hand for Louis to take. He really wanted that. 

 

“Whatever you want to do. I … I’d like to go on a date with you,” Louis said finally, finding the words he wanted. Niall very nearly upended the table in his excitement, clapping Harry hard on the shoulder. Harry winced and Louis covered his mouth, trying hard not to laugh. 

 

“That’s really great. I … yeah, I’ll plan something. Maybe this Friday? I’ll come pick you up from work and we can go back to mine?” Harry suggested, his eyes bright with excitement, and Louis nodded, standing up and moving around the table to Harry to kiss him. He pecked his lips a few times, wanting nothing more than to just melt into Harry’s arms and stay there forever. 

 

They discussed it a bit more while they cleaned up the dishes. Niall had already gone to bed by the time they were done - he had an early morning shift the next day, so Louis didn’t blame him. He said goodbye to Harry at the door, kissing him for much longer than was necessary before Harry finally left for home. 

 

Laying in bed a little later, Louis couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Finally, after everything he’d been through, things were finally moving in a positive direction. He was happy. 

 

*

 

It was Friday afternoon, and Louis was trying to distract himself from the daunting prospect of his date with Harry later that night. As he wiped down and cleaned up tables at the diner, he tried to focus on something, anything else, but he couldn’t. His entire body was thrumming with a mixture of excitement and pure terror, despite the fact that he was just going over to Harry’s flat for a nice meal and whatever else Harry had planned. But it was his first date - ever. 

 

Even Carol hadn’t been able to distract him, despite the fact that she’d had a mix up with her hair dye at the shop and had come out of the kitchen to greet him with orange hair instead of her usual dark brown.

 

“Ended up with bleach instead of red, don’t know how I got the bloody boxes mixed up, but … guess I’ll look like an idiot till I can go to the hairdresser and get it fixed up,” she’d said at the look of shock that must have been apparent on Louis’ face. He’d laughed and given her a hug, but the constant butterflies in Louis’ tummy hadn’t let up.

 

Tonight, the hours were passing by a little too quickly for Louis’ liking. His mind kept going to the nice jeans and sweater Niall had picked out for him earlier that day. He’d get dressed here when he was done and Harry would pick him up, all proper. It was going to be so sweet - and so scary. Louis swallowed past the anxious lump in his throat and focused instead on Harry, on his smile and his beautiful eyes and his soft voice. He felt some of the tension leave his shoulders, and he made his way behind the counter, dropping off his bucket and wiping his forehead. 

 

He heard the telltale opening music of the nightly news on the telly in the corner of the diner and hummed it quietly to himself. It wasn’t like he made a habit of watching the news, but since the telly was on all day, that was the only small amount of entertainment he got. 

 

“Hey, Carol, would you turn it up, sweets? Wanna hear this! There’s breaking news on in a mo,” one of the customers said in a deep, gravelly voice, and Carol obliged. Louis shot a glance up at the bottom of the screen for the time. Harry would be here in about fifteen minutes. That was just enough time to wipe down the counter and change.

 

“This just in …” The reporter began speaking, and the man from earlier shushed everyone.

 

“Suspected murderer of Laura and Victoria Tomlinson, Wayne Tomlinson, is set to be released from prison at the end of the month. He was captured nearly three years ago in his home after having allegedly attacked his wife and step-daughter. It is not clear whether Wayne was solely responsible for the murders, but the evidence against him is damning. However, since no witness has been able to give testimony, police admit there is no possibility of extending his sentence. Unless a witness comes forward …”

 

Louis didn’t hear any more of it. He wasn’t even sure he heard anything past Wayne’s name. His ears were ringing and his entire body felt numb. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be. This wasn’t happening.

 

He wasn’t breathing. He knew it because Carol was there, holding him, yelling his name, pressing her hands to his chest. He could see her lips moving, but he couldn’t hear her words. Behind her, everyone at the counter was staring at him. The picture now on the screen, one of their happy little family, as was always showed with white men accused of crimes, had alerted everyone to who he was. 

 

Somehow, he found his way to the back of the kitchen, away from everything. He wasn’t even sure how his legs knew to move, but there he was, trying desperately to find a place to hide from all this. He couldn’t control himself, and as he fought for air, he slipped into darkness.

 

_ “Wayne, please come and sit down. We can have some pie and talk about what’s made you so upset,” Laura said kindly, but Louis knew it was in vain. Wayne never listened to a word she said, especially when he was this plastered.  _

 

_ “Shut the fuck up! Just shut up, you horrible cunt!”  _

 

_ Clearly, Victoria couldn’t take it anymore, because at that moment, Louis felt her slip from his grasp, and suddenly she was in the kitchen. _

 

_ “Mummy!” _

 

_ Both adults turned to look at her, and Louis stepped out from behind the door, his mind racing for a cover story. “Sorry, Mum, Wayne. She just wanted to see you, wanted you to tuck her in, and I couldn’t stop her. Those big doe eyes, you know.”  _

 

_ He tried to sound jovial, joking, but he could hear his own voice shaking. Wayne’s dark eyes bored into his and he had to physically stop himself from shuddering.  _

 

_ Victoria was there, hugging their mum around the waist and looking up at Wayne with pleading brown eyes. “If you’re going to hurt Mummy, you’ll have to hurt me too.” _

 

_ Louis gasped, and Laura looked down at her daughter in terror. “Oh, love, he’s not hurting me. Where did you hear that?” _

 

_ “No, Laura. She’s right. Don’t lie to her. That’s not how you raise proper children.” Wayne turned his terrifying gaze on Victoria, who cowered into Laura, hiding her face. “That’s right, girl. I hurt your mother. She deserves it, you know. And so do you. Ungrateful little brats, both of you.” _

 

_ “Don’t speak to them that way,” Louis growled, finally finding his voice. He was so angry that the words just wouldn’t come out, but he had to do something. Wayne acted like he hadn’t heard him, instead focusing on his wife and daughter, who were backing away slowly.  _

 

_ “Daddy, please, don’t hurt her. You’d never hurt her, or me. We’re your family,” Victoria whispered. _

 

_ “Wayne, please, she’s just a child. Don’t take out your anger at me on her,” Laura said firmly, placing herself in front of Vic. _

 

_ “Everyone just shut up, shut up!” Wayne recoiled from them, clutching his head, and then his hand went for his pocket. Louis hadn’t noticed the strange lump in the back pocket of his jeans until it was too late.  _

 

_ Wayne aimed the gun right at his wife’s head, looking from her to Vic and then to Louis, who stood rooted to the spot. He didn’t know what to do. He had to get to them, had to protect them before Wayne did something terrible. But he’d never reach them in time, even if he made a run for it. Wayne might even shoot him. He was stuck.  _

 

_ His phone was buzzing in his pocket, and he knew it was probably Niall waiting outside, but he didn’t dare move to answer it. Wayne had his family at gunpoint. He had to do something. _

 

_ “Wayne … honey, you don’t want to hurt us. Put the gun down, please,” Laura said, her voice strong and steady for someone who had a gun pointed at their head.  _

 

_ “I’ve wanted to hurt you for so long. I’ve wanted to be rid of you since the day I met you, but you just clung on to me like some desperate leech. Why I ever married you in the first place is beyond me, but I’m done. It’s over.” _

 

_ Wayne was so focused on them that he didn’t notice Louis, which was lucky, because Louis had his phone in his hand behind his back, a number already punched in as he set it on the counter, moving into the light of the kitchen.  _

 

_ “Don’t you dare hurt them.” _

 

_ Louis took a bold step, his hands up in surrender. He knew he had to keep Wayne’s attention if he wanted to save them. He moved another step closer, and then another, and Wayne’s bloodshot eyes followed him.  _

 

_ Louis’ eyes flickered to his mum, who was staring at him with wide eyes. Every part of her expression was telling him to run, but he couldn’t. He had to protect them, no matter the cost. _

 

_ “You will not hurt my family. You will put that gun down. I’ve already called the police. It’s not worth it.” _

 

_ “You … you filthy faggot. I should have killed you from the start. But if I had, I suppose I couldn’t watch the look on your face as I hurt them instead.” _

 

_ Several loud bangs echoed through the kitchen. Wayne was yelling and Louis, moving just a second too late, slipped in something, falling to the floor at Wayne’s feet. He sat up, covered in something sticky, something that was spreading across the floor. He scrambled to his feet, backing away. To his right, his mum and his sister lay motionless.  _

 

_ “Get on your knees … NOW!” _

 

_ Louis couldn’t feel anything. His mind and body were numb as he slid to his knees, hands still raised. Wayne turned to him, and Louis looked down the barrel of the gun. This was it. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.  _

 

_ “Any last words?” _

 

_ Louis opened his mouth, but not a single sound came out. His voice had ceased to work. He was going to die on his knees, begging for mercy. And the scariest part of it is that he didn’t care if he did. He had nothing left to live for, not anymore. _

 

_ The front door made a splintering sound as it was smashed to pieces. Wayne turned at the commotion, and Louis crawled across the floor, hunkering down under the kitchen table. The remains of the food were now sitting in puddles of blood. Louis covered his ears as the yelling grew louder and louder. He hated the noise. He wanted the noise to stop. The shots were still ringing in his ears. _

 

_ “Louis … Lou, can you hear me? Louis!” _

  
  


*

 

**> H <**

 

Harry parked his car outside The Yankee Diner and let out a long breath, glancing at the flowers in the seat next to him. Soon enough, his boyfriend would be sitting there, probably burying his face into the soft petals. Harry knew how much Louis loved flowers, and all he wanted to do was make him smile and put him at ease. Louis was surely overthinking everything right now, and it was Harry’s job to make him forget his worries and be happy. 

 

He finally got out of the car, pushing past his own nerves and taking a sniff of the flowers himself. They had reminded him of Louis - so bright and vibrant on the inside, but still blooming. He hoped Louis would like them. 

 

Stepping into the shop, he knew immediately that something wasn’t right. His excitement slipped away as he walked slowly inside, observing his surroundings. Everyone was whispering while the news played in the background. Some of the older folks even looked concerned. Carol and Louis weren’t out front, but that wasn’t for long. As Harry approached the counter, Carol came bursting out of the kitchen, her hair a vibrant shade of orange and tears tracing her cheeks.

 

“Carol, what … what’s going on? What happened?” Harry asked, almost dreading the answer. Carol gestured wordlessly up at the television, wiping at her eyes. Harry focused in on it, hearing the words they were saying for the first time. 

 

“What do you think, Mary? Is there gonna be a witness to step up?”

 

“I don’t know, John. It’s been a long time. If no one has come forward to make sure that Wayne Tomlinson stays in prison, I doubt anyone’s gonna turn up now.”

 

Harry’s heart stopped at the sound of that name. He’d learned of Louis’ identity and connection to that man and what he’d done a long time ago, but he’d pushed it out of his mind in favor of getting to know Louis without any preconceived notions. But this … Wayne getting released? That was Louis’ worst nightmare, and by extension, Harry’s. 

 

“He … fuck, this isn’t good,” Harry muttered, running his hand over his face and turning his attention back to Carol. “Where’s Louis?”

 

Carol’s eyes filled with tears again. “He … he just stopped moving, stopped talking, stopped breathing, the moment Wayne’s name was spoken. And then he ran, and he … he’s passed out on the floor back there, I think he hit his head. I …”

 

Harry felt fear take over his body, but when he spoke, his voice was calm. “Carol, it’s alright. He’s gonna be alright. I need you to call Niall, tell him it’s an emergency. Then call 999. We have to make sure Louis is okay.”

 

Harry left the flowers on the counter where he’d set them down and ducked under the divide, pushing through the door to the kitchen. Sure enough, Louis was there, on the ground with a sizable lump on his head. He wasn’t moving, but he was breathing. Each breath came with a hitch, like he was crying, but Harry knew he was just panicking in his unconsciousness.

 

He knelt down next to Louis and turned him over onto his back as carefully as he could. He was at a loss on what to do, but he just let his instincts take over, smoothing Louis’ hair off his sweaty forehead. 

 

“Lou … Lou, come back to me. I need you to look at me, come on. Open your eyes for me, love,” He whispered, touching Louis’ cheek gently. Louis’ face twitched but otherwise, he stayed limp. Harry pulled himself closer, feeling his throat tighten in fear. He couldn’t lose Louis like this. Things were just starting to get better for Louis, for both of them.  

 

There was a commotion outside the kitchen and Niall came bursting through the door, looking terrified. 

 

“I … caught the end of the story … when I got home … came as fast … as I could …” Niall gasped, kneeling down beside Harry.

 

As if Louis had suddenly become aware of both of them, he jerked in Harry’s hold and his eyes flew open, wide and terrified. He took one look at Harry and scrambled away, slipping a bit on the wet floor and nearly hitting his head again. His face was set in a blank expression, but his eyes were darting around as his breathing picked up, becoming choppy. 

 

“Easy, there, Lou. It’s us. It’s Niall and Harry. You’re safe with us, remember?” Niall said softly. Harry was at a loss of what to say. He was so scared of saying the wrong thing, and this would definitely not be the moment to fuck that up. Louis scooted back under the sinks, curled in on himself, his nails scratching furiously at his exposed arms. 

 

“Louis, please … let me help you,” Harry whispered, crawling closer, but Louis whimpered, pulling himself further away from Harry’s reaching hand. Harry pulled back at once. He’d thought he was finally getting somewhere with Louis, somewhere where Louis could be comfortable accepting physical touch as help. But that was clearly not the case. 

 

“Harry, don’t. Don’t think like that. He trusts you, he’s just … he’s in the past right now. He’s reliving it, every moment. He doesn’t understand that you make him feel safe, not right now,” Niall said, and, for the first time since Harry had known Niall, he heard his voice shaking. Niall stood up and brushing his knees off. “You stay down there with him, though. I’ll wait for the paramedics out there. Make sure he doesn’t try to hurt himself. If he does, restrain him as best you can.”

 

Niall disappeared, leaving Harry alone, four feet away from Louis and feeling absolutely miserable. It wasn’t even that he was upset for himself, which he was, in a way. It was more about Louis. He’d grown so used to Louis’ constant improvement that seeing him like this, watching him pull away from Harry instead of reaching for him, broke his heart. He hated that Louis no longer trusted him, or anyone. He hated that Louis was suffering through unbearable pain and there was nothing he, Harry, could do to take that pain away.

 

He looked back over at Louis, who was still shaking, still scratching furiously at his arms, which were rosy red from his nails. They’d start bleeding soon if he kept at it, but Harry knew there was nothing he could do that wouldn’t make things worse right now. 

 

_ I love you, I’m sorry _ , Harry signed, his bottom lip trembling. He’d never said those words to Louis before. He’d never even taught him how to sign them, because he wanted the first time he said them to be special. But he couldn’t think of anything else to do. He just wanted Louis to be okay.

 

The paramedics arrived at that moment, and though that meant Harry had to move away from Louis, he couldn’t help but feel a little relieved. Distance from the situation in which he had no power to fix was helpful, even for a moment. He stood by Niall, who was visibly shaking. Harry didn’t know the full story of what had happened with Louis and his family, just what he’d read in the papers, but Niall clearly did. The news of Wayne Tomlinson’s possible release was affecting him almost as much as it was Louis. Harry reached out an arm and slung it around Niall’s shoulders, doing his best to comfort his friend. 

 

“Come on, lad, we’ve got to get you looked at,” one of the paramedics said, starting to crawl under the sink to where Louis was. Louis scrambled to get away, and the panicked speed of his breathing made Harry’s chest ache. 

 

“Collins, I don’t think we’re gonna be able to get near him. My brother was there when Tomlinson was caught - said this kid was hiding under the table, covered in blood …” another one of the paramedics said, speaking lowly so Louis couldn’t hear. The words coming from him made Harry feel, if possible, worse. 

 

“Then how do we know whether to take him in or not?” Collins huffed, and Harry almost went to yell at him, to tell him to lay off, but his partner got to him first.

 

“By the looks of it, there’s no blood, and his eyes aren’t glassy. I don’t think we’ve got much to worry about.” The paramedic turned to face Harry and Niall, both of whom moved forward. “I know your friend isn’t really responsive right now, but in my expertise, I’d say he’s got good people looking after him. Get him home, keep him safe. I’d look at a restraining order too, just in case. If you come up with any issues, bring him in.”

 

“Thank you, sir. We’ll remember that. Thank you so much for coming so quickly,” Niall said, shaking the hands of both paramedics, his face set in a grim expression. Harry shook their hands as well and then looked to Niall.

 

“Well … what now?”

 

Niall rubbed his hands over his face, scrubbing away at the tears he probably thought he was hiding. “We’ve got to get him out from under there and home. By now, everyone who’s seen Louis in the last two years will know who he is. Reporters, paps, all of them. We need to get him somewhere safe.”

 

Harry swallowed and nodded, knowing what he had to do. He knelt down, making eye contact with Louis again. He had tears streaming down his cheeks now, and his nails had broken the skin. Tiny rivulets of blood were trickling down Louis’ arms. 

 

“Louis, it’s alright. We’re going to take you home. Your flat, your bedroom. Would you like that?” Harry did his best to keep his voice calm and reassuring, hiding any indication of how terrified he was. Louis looked right at Harry, his eyes red and swollen, and Harry waited. Then slowly, very slowly, Louis nodded once. Harry couldn’t help the relieved smile that crossed his face. “Okay. We can do that, but you have to come to me.” Harry reached out his hand carefully, so as not to frighten Louis further away. Louis looked from his hand to his face, and back again, hesitating. His chest was still rising and falling shallowly, panic clearly still enveloping him, but he was responding.

 

Harry watched as Louis carefully unfolded himself, getting to his hands and knees. He began to crawl slowly towards Harry, and Harry stayed very still, beckoning carefully until Louis was close enough to touch. Harry felt Louis’ cold fingertips touch his, and he held back a sob as Louis fully emerged from under the sink, collapsing into Harry’s arms.

 

He heard a sigh from behind him, and stood slowly, Louis curled up in his arms. Niall was crying, openly crying, but he wiped his face hastily when Louis looked up at him. He plastered on a smile and touched Louis’ arm lightly, just letting him know that he was there. 

 

Carol had come back into the kitchen at some point, and she directed them to the back door. Harry could feel Louis shaking in his arms and he whispered soft words of comfort into his hair as he carried him to Niall’s car. 

 

The ride was absolutely silent, other than the occasional sniffle from Louis. Harry stayed in the back seat with him, still holding him. He was afraid that, if he let him go, Louis wouldn’t want to be near him anymore, and he didn’t think he could take that on top of everything else that had happened tonight.

 

Once they were inside, Niall disappeared to the kitchen, probably needing to be alone. Harry carried Louis to his room and set him down on the bed. Louis curled up against the wall, pulling a tattered picture from under his pillow and clutching it to his chest. Through his fingers, Harry thought he could see Louis, a woman, and a little girl.

 

He took in a shaky breath, looking around the room for something to do. Eventually, he just moved his chair closer to Louis’ bedside and rested his head on the mattress. He needed to rest his eyes, just for a few moments.

 

*

 

The sound that awoke Harry was piercing, like someone getting stabbed. He sat bolt upright and fell out of his chair, hitting the floor hard. He sat up and saw that it was still dark out. Someone, probably Niall, had turned out the lights, but there was just enough light for Harry to see Louis thrashing around on the bed. Harry struggled to his feet, still groggy from sleep, but he had to stop Louis moving before he hurt himself. 

 

Louis was clearly awake - his eyes were wide open and his mouth was gaping in horror. The scream must have come from him, but now, he seemed incapable of making any noise at all. He was tearing at his clothes, the work clothes he hadn’t bothered to take off, jerking horribly. 

 

“Louis, Louis, please look at me. It’s just me here, you’re safe,” Harry whispered, reaching out and immediately pulling his hands back. He wasn’t sure if touching Louis while he was in this state was a good idea. 

 

The door opened and Niall stumbled in, looking just as tired as Harry felt. He made his way to the bed and sat down, pulling Louis into his arms and starting to unbutton his shirt as fast as he could with one hand. 

 

“We’ve got to get these clothes off him. He feels contaminated. I’ll take care of him, you go run a bath. Put in the lavender bubbles and light a vanilla candle, and make sure the water is as hot as it gets.”

 

Harry did as he was told, and minutes later, the bathroom was filled with a calming perfume of lavender and vanilla, steam filling the air and making it feel warm and tropical. Harry stood aside as Niall maneuvered a now naked Louis into the water. The moment the water made contact with his skin, Louis stopped moving. His eyes were still wide as saucers, but his body was calm. Niall pulled his arms out from under Louis, falling back onto his bum on the floor next to Harry. 

 

“Thank you … this used to be one of the only ways anyone could get him to calm down after it all happened,” Niall admitted, pulling his soaking wet shirt over his head and tossing it to the ground. “In a way, it calmed me too … after seeing it, what Wayne did, it … it’s hard to get that picture out of your mind. And Louis sees it every night.” Niall wiped at his eyes again, and Harry pulled him into a hug, letting Niall rest his head on his shoulder. 

 

“It’s okay to not be okay,” Harry mumbled, not sure of what else to say. Niall nodded against his shoulder. 

 

“I know. It’s what I always tell Louis. I just wish I could do more for him.”

 

“Hey, you do so much. More than anyone else would ever do for their friend. You’ve helped him become able to live an almost normal life now. You should be proud of yourself. I know I am.”

 

They stayed silent, letting Louis soak in the water for a bit more, just trying to take in everything that had happened in the last few hours. Harry’s mind was on overload, but he did his best to push his fear away. Louis needed him. Niall needed him. He had to be here for both of them, not caught up in his own head. No matter how bad things got, Harry was the one on the outside of the situation here. He had to do what he could to make sure they were both going to be okay. 

 

“I should … make some tea. Calm us all down. Umm … He’s gonna need to be washed, if you don’t mind,” Niall said with a yawn, crawling to his feet.

 

“Of course. I’ll take care of him,” Harry assured him, and Niall nodded, leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind him. Harry sat there for a few minutes, trying to get his bearings, and then turned to Louis. Louis was staring at the wall, his expression blank, and the only sound in the room was his slightly shaky breaths. 

 

Harry crawled closer to the edge of the bathtub and picked up a soft flannel from the pile on the counter. He stood and got it wet in the sink, and knelt down again, waving his hand slowly to get Louis’ attention. Louis slowly turned his head, his expression still devoid of any emotion.

 

_ Wash you? _ Harry signed, then lifting the flannel to show Louis. Louis swallowed and nodded, and Harry took a deep breath before scooting closer and gently lifting one of Louis’ arms out of the water. The dried blood from earlier was still there, but Harry wiped it away, carefully getting both of Louis’ arms, his neck, and his upper chest and back.

 

“Lou … do you want me to, umm …” Harry asked haltingly, hesitating as the flannel dipped into the water. He and Louis may have gotten that far in their relationship at some point, but right now, they hadn’t done much other than kiss, and Harry was quite sure that Louis wouldn’t want to be touched right now, or possibly ever, after this. 

 

Louis tapped his heart with two fingers and made the sign for wash. Harry swallowed but nodded, allowing the flannel to submerge as he continued to wash Louis’ stomach and lower back. 

 

As Harry guided the flannel down over Louis’ legs, Louis looked away from him, tears sliding down his cheeks. Harry felt his own eyes fill, but he held them back, moving on quickly down Louis’ legs. Louis had told him a few days ago that, when Harry did eventually touch him, he wanted it to be perfect, special. In fact, Harry had been almost sure that tonight was supposed to be that night - Louis had said he thought he might be ready for that. And now, that moment was ruined, and Harry wished he could take it all away and give Louis all the special moments all over again. 

 

By the time Harry had wiped Louis completely down, they were both crying, and Harry had to stop himself from getting in the bath fully clothed and hugging Louis to his chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Louis was supposed to get better, be able to move forward and reenter society with, if not confidence, then at least a bit of hope. Harry hated Wayne Tomlinson for ruining Louis in the first place, and now ruining his chance at recovery. 

 

Louis was struggling now, trying to lift himself out of the water, but his arms were shaking - Harry didn’t think it had anything to do with Louis’ ability to physically lift himself. Harry quickly grabbed a towel and stood to help Louis, covering him in the soft cotton. Louis clutched the towel to his body, shaking in the cold of the bathroom. Harry hesitantly placed his hands on Louis arms, helping him step out of the bath and onto the small rug.

 

“I’m going to go get you some clothes, yeah? Get you nice and warm, and then we can have some tea. Is that okay?”

 

Louis didn’t respond, but he was shivering more violently now, so Harry all but sprinted to Louis’ room, pulling the softest joggers and the biggest sweatshirt he could find. On a last minute whim, he grabbed the photo too, not looking at it as he placed it on top of the clothes. When Louis was ready, he’d show Harry. 

 

He left Louis alone to get dressed, standing outside the door and waiting until there was a small knock on the other side. Harry opened it and there stood Louis, drowning in a hoodie four sizes too big for him, looking smaller than ever. The photo was clutched in his shaking hands. Harry offered his hand to Louis, but Louis shook his head, shuffling ahead towards the main room. Harry followed him at a safe distance, waiting until Louis was settled on the sofa before cutting to the kitchen to help Niall with the tea. 

 

He found Niall in there downing what seemed to be his second cup, looking completely drained, with his phone to his ear.

 

“Yeah, mate, I know what time it is. I need you to do this favor for me. You know the guys that worked on the Wayne Tomlinson case, right? I need you to get me a restraining order. No, not for me, for Louis. He’s the only witness, and I don’t want Wayne getting anywhere near him. Just put in a good word. No, Louis can’t ask for it himself, he’s … he doesn’t speak. Please, Jake … okay, thank you. I owe you one.”

 

Niall hung up and gulped down the last of his tea, setting the mug down and sighing. “Sorry you had to see that. I just … I wanted to make sure that that … monster, couldn’t get to Louis. Especially if he gets free. I don’t want to risk it.”

 

“You did the right thing, Ni. Glad you have a friend that can help you out.” Harry leaned against the counter, just barely able to see the back of Louis’ head from where he stood. “What are we going to do? What happens now?”

 

Niall threw up his hands, almost upsetting the two mugs of tea sitting on the counter. “I’m not even completely sure. I mean, the news was pretty clear, I think. If Louis, the only witness, doesn’t give testimony in court against Wayne, he goes free.”

 

“But … Louis can’t - I mean, there’s no way he’ll be able to. Not in front of all those people. In front of  _ him _ …”

 

“I know …” Niall answered in a mere whisper, and the two of them stood there, at a complete loss. Harry’s head was starting to ache.

 

“We should go sit with him … I hate leaving him alone right now,” Harry said finally, reaching for the two untouched mugs of tea. Niall refilled his own, and they both made their way to the main room. 

 

Louis hadn’t moved from where Harry’d left him. Harry slid the tea onto the table in front of Louis and sat down next to him, making sure to keep a bit of distance between them. Niall sat in a chair, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. 

 

“Lou, Ni made you tea. You want some?” Harry asked quietly. Louis stayed silent, but he reached for the mug, cradling it in his hands and letting the steam warm his face. Harry drank down half of his in one gulp, suddenly thirsty and craving the inner warmth that tea always brought him. 

 

At some point, Niall turned on the telly, turning the volume down almost all the way and switching it to a movie channel. The sofa felt like it was pulling Harry into its depths, exhaustion taking over him. He just managed to put his mug of tea on the table before his eyes dropped closed.

 

*

  
  


**> L <**

 

Louis’ eyes were really starting to ache after a week of crying, but he couldn’t stop. Even when he hadn’t had a drink all day, somehow his body found the water to produce tears. He hated it. He hated that everything he’d ever feared was coming to pass and there wasn’t a single thing he could do to make it go away. 

 

He was thankful for his friends, he really was. Niall and Harry hadn’t left him alone for more than an hour in the past week. Niall was heading out in a minute to finalize the restraining order. He’d explained it all to Louis the other day, and, considering the circumstances, there was no way he’d be denied - he was in danger as long as Wayne was alive, as far as Louis was concerned. But him being locked up had given Louis some semblance of safety. Now, however, that was all gone, and he was on the edge of a panic attack at all hours of the day. Even when he managed to catch an hour or so of sleep, his dreams were all of Wayne, and they all ended in his imminent death. 

 

Harry had gotten very good at drawing him baths with the right scents, as well. He hated that he had to resort to that one way of detoxing - he felt like he was 15 again, struggling to come to terms with the fact that his family was gone. This time, though, he had Harry, and though he’d been unable to communicate that to him in any way, he hoped Harry knew that he was making a difference. 

 

Louis felt terrible - he felt like he was back at square one again, completely mute and unable to process even the smallest of events. He slept most of the day and only came out to eat when his stomach felt like it was eating itself. He could see how wary Niall and Harry were around him now, often talking in hushed whispers until he entered a room. He hated that he was letting them down. So here he was, locked away in the bathroom, staring at his gaunt face in the mirror and trying desperately to make a noise. Even if he could just get one word out, he felt like it would lighten the enormous weight he felt on his shoulders. 

 

He squared himself up to the mirror and stared at himself until his eyes started to water, and he wiped at them quickly, not wanting to start crying once again. He had the words in his head, the ones he’d wanted to say for days. He opened his mouth, remembering everything he and Tom had worked on, and tried to make a sound. Nothing came out. He shook his head and tried again. Still nothing. For almost ten minutes, he tried and tried to no avail. He slammed his hands down onto the counter, frustrated with himself. He had to do this - he couldn’t just regress to what he had been before. He wouldn’t let himself become that person again, not when he’d worked so hard to fight against his past. 

 

He closed his eyes, gripping the counter for support, and thought of Harry. His Harry, who always seemed to calm whatever room he walked into just by being there. His Harry, who made stupid jokes and laughed like a donkey when he thought something was funny. His Harry, who hadn’t left his side, even though, by now, he probably knew the extent of the baggage Louis carried around with him every single day. His Harry, who gave him the courage to speak when no one else in three years, bar Niall, had been able to do it. 

 

The vowel sounds came to him, and he gasped as they echoed in the tiny room as he slowly sounded them out. His throat ached, but he persisted, doing them over and over until he felt completely parched. It was barely anything, but to Louis, it felt like a milestone. 

 

There was a knock on the door and Louis snapped his mouth shut, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He must sound like a complete idiot, making sounds to no one. He pulled his shirt over his head, letting the sleeves drop past his wrists, and opened the door, peering out into the hall. Niall was standing there, coat and hat on, clearly ready to go out. Louis opened the door all the way and stepped out of the bathroom. 

 

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I’m on my way over to the station to finalize the restraining order,” Niall said, and Louis just nodded. Even with everything that was going on and his ongoing fear that Wayne would come for him, this at least was something small that could keep him somewhat safe. And the fact that Niall had jumped through a lot of loopholes to get this done so quickly made Louis’ heart warm. “Harry’s still here. He, uh, made some lunch, if you’re up for eating. It’s pretty great - cheese toasties.” Niall chuckled and Louis felt his lip quirk up. 

 

It was then that Louis knew he had to say it. He had to thank Niall for everything. He opened his mouth, but it suddenly felt like he was choking. All the air seemed to have left his lungs, and he put his hand on the wall to steady himself, choking on the words that wouldn’t come out. Niall reached out, and Louis winced horribly as Niall’s hand touched his arm. He didn’t pull away, though. 

 

“Lou, you know you don’t have to say anything. I know it’s hard. I’m not here to push you.”

 

Louis shook his head, tears filling his eyes, but for once, they weren’t tears of sadness, they were tears of frustration. He sucked in several deep breaths and screwed his eyes shut, determined to get the words out. 

 

“I … th-thank … you,” he stuttered, opening his eyes as he drew in a shaky breath, feeling extremely overexerted. He looked up into Niall’s soft smile and felt the pain in his chest lessen slightly. 

 

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be, and no one I’d rather be helping, Lou. We’re gonna figure this out, I promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you, and neither will Harry.”

 

Louis nodded, wiping at his eyes with his sleeves and looking at the floor. Niall’s hand squeezed his arm gently before he headed out. Louis heard him call a goodbye to Harry, who must have been in the kitchen still. Now that he focused on it, Louis could smell the cheese and bread combo. His stomach rumbled.

 

He padded out to the kitchen and stood quietly in the doorway until Harry turned, jumping so violently he almost upset the cheese toasties. 

 

“God, Lou, you scared me,” Harry said with a laugh, but his smile disappeared as he looked Louis over. Louis looked away - he knew he looked bad, that he hadn’t had a proper shower in days, and that his eyes were dry and swollen from so much crying. He hated that Harry was seeing him like this, but if he was being honest, he missed being around Harry. He always felt better when he was, and lately, he’d been pushing him away. 

 

“Louis … will you look at me?”

 

Harry’s voice was soft now, the voice that always made Louis feel calmer, but he still struggled to meet Harry’s eyes. When he finally did, he could see all the fear and sadness in them, staring back at him, accusing him. He shook his head, biting his lip hard to keep from crying. 

 

“Oh, Lou, I didn’t mean … please, I … can I hug you?”

 

Louis suddenly realized how much he was craving contact with Harry, with his warm, smooth skin. He nodded, tears falling against his will, and then Harry was there. His arms encircled Louis, pulling him in close, and Louis breathed in the smell of him, shaking with the force of his sobs. It was a while before he was able to calm down, but Harry didn’t let him go for a moment. They just stood there in the kitchen until Louis could finally catch his breath.

 

When he pulled back, Harry kept a hand on his lower back, looking down at him with emotional eyes. “You alright? Can I get you anything?”

 

Louis pointed to the cheese toasties, which were now starting to burn a little. Harry cursed under his breath and went to take them off. Louis stood there awkwardly, so many words running through his mind that he wanted to say to Harry. Maybe some food would make it easier for him to get the words out. 

 

Harry made up two plates and carried them to the main room. Louis followed, taking a seat on the sofa next to Harry, and they both dug in. Louis had to keep himself from moaning as he bit into his - it was, without a doubt, the best cheese toastie he’d ever had. It felt warm in his stomach as he ate and ate. He hadn’t realized how truly hungry he was until it was gone, and he was staring at Harry’s, which was half eaten and sitting on his plate. Harry was watching him with amusement, and Louis found himself smiling, his cheeks heating up. 

 

“If you want it, have at it. I can always make more,” Harry said, his voice light and playful, and Louis waited only a moment before he snatched it up, scarfing it down in a few bites. Harry laughed and flicked on the telly. Louis froze mid swallow as he heard his own name spoken aloud by a newscaster. 

 

“ … Louis Tomlinson, the only one of his family left alive. Is he the witness that could keep Wayne Tomlinson in jail for good? Stay tuned for more on the Tomlinson murder case after the break.”

 

Harry hurried to flip it off, but Louis already felt the small shred of happiness that had wormed its way into his chest from being with Harry slip away, the crushing anxiety and pain looming over him, surrounding him like a dark cloud. 

 

“Lou, I’m sorry, I was watching the news earlier and I … I’m sorry, I can leave you alone if you’d prefer …” Harry mumbled, standing and picking up their plates. Louis’ heart raced - for the first time since he’d heard the news about Wayne, he didn’t want to be alone. He was afraid that, if Harry left, he’d break. He reached out and grabbed Harry’s wrist, mouthing the words he wanted to say:  _ Please don’t go. _

 

Harry sat back down immediately, the plates forgotten at the edge of the coffee table. Louis wasn’t sure what to do now. He didn’t know if he wanted to talk or sleep or watch a movie or just sit there in silence, but he needed to do something. 

 

“Umm … Lou, I, uh, have been meaning to talk to you, actually,” Harry said slowly, and Louis turned to face him, wondering what Harry would say. It was Harry, so it could be anything, but the intensity of his gaze told Louis it was something serious. Harry was rarely ever not smiling. He nodded, and Harry continued. “I … I wanted to ask you, umm, well, what happened.”

 

Louis sat there, stunned, just staring at Harry. With everything that had happened in the past few years, from the police records to the doctors and then the therapists, Louis didn’t think anyone had ever been that direct. They had always already known most of what had happened, having read the multiple stories in the paper. No one really cared what he had to say - it was pretty obvious, or so it seemed to be to everyone else. 

 

“You … you must know. Every … everyone kn-knows,” Louis mumbled quietly, struggling to get the words out. His throat burned and his heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest, the memories swirling right at the back of his mind. 

 

Harry shook his head, reaching out to take Louis’ hand in his. He lifted it to his mouth and pressed his lips gently against Louis’ knuckles. Louis blushed, feeling both overwhelmed with love for Harry and slightly sick. 

 

“I want to hear it from you, not from some paper who only prints what they think the people wanna hear,” Harry said firmly, but not unkindly. “I trust you more than I trust them, and I … I mean, only if you want to tell me. You don’t have to. I just thought I’d … yeah.” Harry talked himself into silence, looking down at his hands, which were now clenched together in his lap. 

 

Louis’ heart now felt heavy as he stared at Harry, trying to figure out if he was serious or not. It was clear that Harry had been dying to know what was going on, and it had taken a lot of courage to ask Louis. And all Louis wanted to do was tell him. He wanted Harry to understand him, understand what happened and why he was the way he was now. He wanted to make sure that Harry understood what he was getting into, and - his heart ached at the mere thought - give him an out if he wanted one. 

 

Louis nodded then, and Harry looked up, sensing his movement. Louis nodded again, so Harry could see him. 

 

“I … I w-want to tell you. I just … it … might take a l-little w-while,” Louis stuttered, swallowing down the panic. This was Harry. Just him and Harry, alone. And Harry deserved to know. It was that thought, coupled with Harry’s rapt attention, that gave Louis the courage to speak, more than he had in a very long time. 

 

“It should have never happened - I … It was just a normal night, umm … my m-mum was making some crazy spicy dish cause sh-she liked to watch cooking shows.” Harry’s face was rapt with attention, taking in every detail, and Louis was glad that he didn’t seem keen to interrupt. If he was going to do this, keep up his confidence and keep using his voice, he had to just keep going. “And R - umm, he always came home late. He was always drinking. He would get angry, l-lash out. Sometimes it was just her. Sometimes it was me too. Whoever was there. We tried to keep Vic in the dark about it all - sh-she was so young.”

 

He kept talking, stumbling over his words, but Harry’s gaze never wavered from his own. The more he talked, the stranger he felt, almost like he was becoming physically lighter. It was when he finally got back to describing that night that he faltered. His throat felt raw and he was doing his best to hold back yet more tears. Harry’s hand moved and rested on top of Louis’ then, and Louis took in several shaky breaths before continuing. 

 

“He was saying such horrible things, about Mum and Vic and they were just standing there taking it and I … he just kept yelling at us to shut up, and then he … he, um …” Louis clenched his hands around his thighs, digging his fingers in, feeling tears pooling in his eyes, spilling over. “He pulled out a gun, and I just froze … I should have seen it before. Should have k-kept them away from him, but he was pointing it at them ... I didn’t want to trigger him into shooting and I just … I told him not to hurt them, and he … he said he wanted to hurt them in front of me, to break me. And then …”

 

Louis’ chest was aching with the effort of trying to breathe. He’d never told this part of the story before, not to anyone. He’d never been able to verbalize it. His mind was swimming with broken memories of that night, of that moment when everything went wrong.

 

“Lou … Louis, look at me.”

 

Louis forced his eyes up, meeting Harry’s. They were wide, terrified, but his voice was calm, soothing him and pulling him back from his impending panic attack. 

 

“You don’t have to tell me, baby. It’s okay. Take a break,” Harry said softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Louis’ hand. Louis shook his head, wiping at his eyes and taking gasping breaths. He had to finish this - he was so close.

 

“I was too late. I moved too late, and I … I slipped in something wet. And he told me to get on my knees. I … I knew I was going to die, but … Harry, I didn’t care. I didn’t want to live, not when they were gone. And that’s when the police came, and I crawled under the table. It was t-too much, the noises and the yelling and … and the blood. Niall said I was completely in shock. I was taken to the hospital, and then I saw them come in and I …”

 

A sob ripped its way from Louis’ throat and he buried his face in his hands, his heart feeling like it was breaking all over again. He tried to catch his breath but he couldn’t, and he just wished he could stop feeling. 

 

Strong arms went around him as Harry pulled Louis to his chest, cradling him there gently. Louis gripped Harry’s shirt, needing something to hold on to, something to ground him.

 

“I don’t want to be broken anymore,” Louis whispered against Harry’s chest, divulging his deepest secret in one breath. Harry’s arms tightened around him, and Louis just stayed there, in Harry’s embrace, praying that it would stop hurting.

 

“You’re the bravest person I know, Louis Tomlinson. What you did, what you’ve done since then, it’s not weakness, not brokenness. It’s strength, rebuilding what crumbled. You’ve made so many amazing strides to find yourself again, and I’m so proud of you. One day, you’ll be healed again, I promise,” Harry whispered, and Louis felt Harry’s lips pressing to the top of his head. Exhaustion hit him suddenly then, and his eyes began to droop as his breathing finally evened out. 

 

“You make me feel healed, H,” he breathed, letting sleep take him then. 

 

*

  
  


A few hours later, Louis opened his eyes. The telly was playing quietly, but Harry was gone, a pillow in his place. Louis felt a strange sense of relief, which was not mixing well with his heightened anxiety, especially now that he didn’t know where Harry was. He didn’t have to panic long, though. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he heard soft voices coming from the kitchen. He stood up and walked quietly in that direction, listening as Harry’s and Niall’s voices reached his ears.

 

“... don’t know if it’s such a good idea, Ni,” Harry was saying. Niall huffed, sounding stressed. 

 

“He has to, H. There’s no other way to make sure he stays locked up. That’s what Jake told me - if he doesn’t, Wayne goes free.”

 

Louis shuddered at the mention of Wayne’s name. He knew they were talking about him, but right now, he wasn’t awake enough to discern what it all meant. All he knew was that he didn’t want to talk about Wayne any more than he had to. He’d done plenty of it already today, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it again. 

 

It was then that Niall turned, and upon seeing Louis, stood up and plastered a smile onto his face. Louis wasn’t fooled, but he couldn’t find the words to tell Niall that. 

 

“Hey, Lou. I, uh, just got back a bit ago. I got the restraining order.”

 

Louis nodded, suspecting that this wasn’t all Niall wanted to say. He was grateful for what Niall had done, he really was, but even as he opened his mouth to thank him, he knew the words weren’t going to come out. What had happened earlier with Harry had been a complete one off. He wasn’t even sure he  _ wanted _ to talk to anyone, at least for a while. Telling that story, reliving it, had taken so much out of him. He signed thank you instead, feeling miserable as he took a seat at the small table next to Harry. Harry’s hand immediately reached for his and he flinched, which only made him feel worse. Harry didn’t seem extremely bothered, but Louis did extend his pinky, linking it with Harry’s.

 

“You want something to eat?” Niall offered, but Louis shook his head. He didn’t have much of an appetite these days. All he could think about was the endless list of what ifs and the inevitable situation he’d find himself in once Wayne was set free. He was on borrowed time at this point - he knew that, and it terrified him. 

 

Harry and Niall were back to chatting, something about sports and work and a mix of other things, but Louis just stared at the table top, not saying anything, trying not to feel the crushing weight of his fear. It was only when Niall and Harry were both sat down and turned to look at him that Louis knew - whatever they were holding back, whatever they’d been discussing, he was about to find out. 

 

“So, as you know, I went to see Jake, my friend, the one who got me the restraining order,” Niall began, and Louis just watched him, waiting for more. “He gave me a bit of information about what’s going to happen with the trial and everything. I think you should know.”

 

Harry’s pinky tightened around Louis’, and Louis looked up just in time to see Harry attempting to school his face into a neutral expression. He didn’t miss the annoyance that had been there mere moments before. Harry clearly didn’t want Niall talking about this, but he’d given in.

 

Louis nodded, encouraging Niall to keep going, but his chest already felt tight at the prospect of talking about this, of hearing Niall tell him when Wayne was going to come for him.

 

“Well, it looks like the news got it right, for once. According to Jake, they had enough evidence to convict him three years ago, but they needed a witness to testify. You were given a grace period for trauma, which is understandable, but that period of time is up. If a witness doesn’t come forward with a full explanation of what happened inside the house that night, they’ll have no choice but to set him free. And, restraining order or not, I know he’ll try to finish what he started, which is the exact opposite of what we want.”

 

Louis could feel himself shaking. His hand trembled on the top of the table, and he crunched his fingers into a fist, trying to make it stop. Unfortunately, he lost his contact with Harry, and couldn’t find it in himself to reach back out for it. He felt sick, having a sneaking suspicion of what was coming next. 

 

“They’re giving you three weeks, Lou. You can come forward and testify against him in court, and he’ll be thrown into high security prison for murder.”

 

“Wait, you didn’t say he had to go to court,” Harry jumped in, looking confused. Louis screwed his eyes shut, trying not to panic.

 

“Well, how else is he supposed to testify?” Niall asked, as though it were obvious. Harry, however, had other ideas. 

 

“So you’re telling me that he’s going to have to stand up in front of the man who murdered his family and tell the whole story?”

 

Louis’ eyes flew open, but all he could see was Wayne’s smirk, his face right before those gunshots went off. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t see Wayne, not in person. He backed his chair up until it hit the wall, which jolted Harry and Niall out of their argument. Their annoyance turned to concern at once. 

 

“Lou …” Niall said, his voice softer now, but Louis just shook his head furiously, stumbling over his own feet as he bolted from the kitchen. He barricaded himself in his bedroom, locking the door, but he was restless. He didn’t want to sit down, but he didn’t want to go anywhere either. He just wanted his mind to leave him alone. He wanted to stop seeing Wayne in every thought. He wanted to stop feeling like he had been shot himself every time he thought of his family. He wanted to stop fearing for his life. He wanted to stop living so the pain would go away. 

 

He sat down hard on his bed, burying his face in his hands and forcing himself to take deep breaths. All he was managing right now were a few wheezy gasps, but he had to get control of himself. 

 

And then, as if almost by magic, everything went away. Louis felt absolutely nothing - no pain, no fear, no anxiety. All that was left was a sort of numbness. He stood up and pulled off his joggers and t-shirt, reaching for his freshly laundered work uniform. He pulled it on in a haze, not used to this feeling of complete nothing. He could hear Harry and Niall outside his door, calling his name, but he didn’t answer them. He just tossed his apron over his shoulder, unlocked the door, and walked out into the hallway. 

 

“Umm … Lou, where are you going?” Niall asked, and Louis turned just briefly, only one word coming to mind. 

 

“Work.”

 

“But Louis … you just … and Carol said to take time …” Harry stumbled over his words, but not even Harry’s voice made Louis feel anything. He just turned his back on them, grabbed a jacket, shoved his feet into his shoes, and walked out into the chilly wind. He had a life, however miserable and short it might be now, to live. That was all that mattered. 

 

*

 

**> H <**

 

Harry just stood there, staring at the closed door, not even sure what to think. He turned to Niall, who looked just as confused and a little scared. 

 

“Has he ever …” Harry began, not even sure where he was going with his sentence, but Niall seemed to understand.

 

“I’ve never seen him like that - robotic, almost. He didn’t even react to your voice. He always reacts …” Niall answered slowly.

 

Nothing else was said as they headed back out into the main room. Niall muttered something about grabbing takeout and headed out the door, leaving Harry alone in their flat. His heart was racing and his head was spinning. Seeing Louis like that, completely overwhelmed with emotion one minute and then blank the next, was scaring him. He didn’t understand, and he didn’t like not knowing, especially when it came to Louis. So much of him was still a mystery to Harry. There were so many triggers that he still didn’t understand. There were so many moments where he was still unsure of whether or not he could touch his boyfriend. He felt like he should know that by now, be able to see the signs.

 

Harry sat down and grabbed his laptop from his bag. A few days ago, he’d brought clothes and the necessities over here so that he could stay a few nights and not have to worry about rushing all the way across the city every day. Right now, he needed to do something. He needed a project, something to take his mind off of Louis. 

 

But that was just it. Harry didn’t want to stop thinking about Louis. He wanted to help him. He wanted to do something that would help Louis. He wanted to get rid of Wayne so Louis could live his life without being in constant fear.

 

His fingers flew over the keys, opening tab after tab until he was satisfied he had enough to go on. He ran quickly to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and a snack, and then he settled in for a night of reading and researching. 

 

*

 

Louis’ strange mood lasted for four days. Harry and Niall were both at a loss for what to do, but they kept on as usual, making sure to offer Louis meals and such whenever they saw him. It wasn’t enough, though, and Harry kept himself occupied with his research, showing it to Niall as he went along. Harry figured they’d show Louis together when Harry had worked out all the details and Niall had talked to his friend Jake to see if it was possible. 

 

It was another late night for Harry. He’d wanted to wait till Louis came home so that they could talk about what he’d discovered - Niall had given him the okay when he’d gotten home earlier that day, but he had to sleep, as he had an early shift at the hospital. 

 

Harry wasn’t sure what time he fell asleep, but he was woken up by a loud thud and a whimper. He sat up, wincing at the pain in his stiff neck from sleeping sitting up, and closed his laptop, the notes he’d been taking still sitting on the sofa next to him. He looked over at the door and saw Louis’ coat hanging there - he must have come home at some point. 

 

He stood and headed quietly down the hallway. Louis’ door was ajar, but not a sound was coming from the room on the other side. Harry knocked quietly, nudging the door open. “Louis? Is that you?”

 

As Harry entered the room, his heart sank. Louis was sitting on the floor next to his bed, shivering and curled up. He was staring at nothing, his face blank, but his eyes wide. The window was open, and Harry hurried to shut it before kneeling in front of Louis. 

 

“Lou, can you hear me?”

 

It took a good minute before Louis’ eyes finally moved to meet Harry’s. Harry offered him a smile, but Louis’ facial expression didn’t change. 

 

“Hey. Let’s take you out to the main room, get you warmed up. How does that sound?”

 

Harry waited, praying for Louis to respond with a sign, a word, anything, but he got nothing. He reached out tentatively, taking hold of Louis’ hand. Louis didn’t even flinch. Swallowing down his fear, Harry stood up and pulled Louis to his feet. He guided Louis out of the room and sat him down on the couch, grabbing as many blankets as he could find and wrapping Louis up in them. 

 

“The stars,” Louis mumbled, and Harry’s head snapped towards him, these being the first words since he’d left earlier. To Harry, they felt monumental, but he wasn’t sure why. 

 

“What do you mean, baby?” The pet name slipped out, but Louis didn’t react to it. Then again, with his behavior, that didn’t mean much. 

 

“The window. I … opened it to see,” Louis said, his voice stronger now, more insistent. 

 

“I … I still don’t understand, Louis,” Harry said timidly, flinching as Louis turned his gaze onto him. His expression was angry, something Harry had never seen on Louis before. 

 

“I opened the window to see them.”

 

Harry nodded, trying not to react to the bite in Louis’ voice. He wasn’t sure what to do to get Louis to explain further. He decided to try something else. “To see the stars, you mean?”

 

Louis nodded. “Yes. My stars. It’s easier when the window’s open.”

 

Harry studied Louis. His face had returned to its expressionless state, but his bottom lip was trembling, and suddenly, Harry understood. Something similar had happened to him when his grandmother had died, though he was sure it wasn’t as serious as this. He moved closer to Louis and put his arm around his shoulders. 

 

“Louis … you don’t have to hold it all in. Not with me. You’re allowed to be upset and scared. You’re allowed to cry. No one is going to fault you for that, not here.”

 

Louis shook his head, but his eyes were glassy now, as though Harry’s words had gotten through to him. He decided to keep going. 

 

“Listen to me. What happened to you was horrific, and I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to know that the person that did it might not get what they deserve. I know that it broke you, but it’s not a bad thing to be broken. Being broken means that you can also be healed. You can take the pieces of your heart and put them back together. It won’t be the same, but it will still be yours, and you’ll still be you, just with a few more battle scars. If I were you? I would have never stopped crying. I would have never been able to pick myself up. But you? You did. You came back to the world a bit battered but still strong, stronger than I’ll ever be. And it breaks me, you know? It kills me that I can’t do anything to help you. I can’t take your pain away. I can’t bring your family back. I can’t stop it from hurting …” Harry was crying now, but he wiped his tears furiously, determined to say what he needed to say. “But I can be here. I can be your shoulder to cry on. I can be the person you come to when you’re scared. I can be the person you trust when no one else in the world makes you feel safe. Please don’t hold back from me - I don’t want to lose you. And I don’t want you to lose yourself.”

 

There was a moment of silence where Harry sucked in a breath, trying to calm himself down after pouring his heart out. Louis was looking at him now, his eyes not wavering. And then, without warning, his face crumpled. 

 

“Oh, Lou …”

 

Harry pulled Louis towards him and Louis went, his body shaking with sobs. Harry just held him, letting him cry, letting him express emotion for the first time in days. 

 

Louis’ face was pressed against Harry’s chest, and Harry could feel his tears soaking the front of his shirt, but he didn’t care. He just wanted Louis to be okay. 

 

Louis finally sat up after what felt like hours, his eyes red and swollen. He lifted his shaking hands and signed one word, one that Harry knew well:  _ Scared _ .

 

“I know, Lou, I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. But it’s going to be alright. Niall and I have been working on something we think might be able to help. It’s complicated, so I think I’ll save it for tomorrow, but … yeah.” Harry faltered, desperately wanting to tell Louis what he wanted to do, but he felt Niall was better at explaining all the details that went into it. 

 

Louis sniffed, wiping at his eyes, and then dug around in his pocket, pulling out the battered photograph that Harry had seen before. Louis scooted closer to him, handing it to him so that Harry could see it for the first time. 

 

The picture was faded, but the boy in it was definitely Louis, probably about four or five years ago. A little girl, probably older than she looked, was sitting on his knee, and her head was thrown back in laughter. A woman stood behind them, her face alight with a smile and her blue eyes, so much like Louis’, staring lovingly at them both. 

 

“My stars. M-my mum, and Vic … my b-baby sister,” Louis stuttered, pointing them out. Harry let his fingers brush the picture of the happy little family, so carefree. The people in this photo had no idea that their family would be torn apart in such a horrible way, and Harry’s heart broke once again. 

 

“They’re beautiful, Lou,” Harry whispered, and Louis just nodded, a few more tears sliding down his cheeks. 

 

“I miss them,” Louis confessed, almost too quietly for Harry to hear. 

 

“I know. I bet they’re proud of you, though.”

 

“S-sometimes, I … I wish I’d d-died too … maybe it w-wouldn’t hurt as m-much.” Louis’ voice broke as he confessed this, and Harry felt his throat constrict. It wasn’t a surprise that Louis felt like this, but to hear him say it out loud was something else. 

 

“Don’t say that, Lou. You’re alive for a reason. You can make sure your stepfather gets what he deserves.”

 

Louis shook his head, looking down at his lap, defeated. “I c-can’t.”

 

Harry said nothing. Right now, even if he had divulged his plan, he had a feeling Louis wouldn’t listen to it. He needed time, and Harry was going to give him at least a few more hours, hopefully when he could rest, before he dropped that bomb. 

 

“I understand. Come on. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

 

Harry helped Louis to his feet and they walked together back to his room, where all the cold seemed to have filtered out of the room, replaced by the warmth of the heat. Harry guided him to his bed and tucked him in. Louis’ eyes were already half closed as his head settled among the pillows. Harry kissed his forehead gently and made to leave, but Louis’ hand on his wrist stopped him. 

 

“Please stay.”

 

Harry didn’t hesitate, but instead crawled over Louis and under the covers, pulling Louis to his chest and looping an arm around his waist. Louis’ breathing soon evened out, and only then did Harry allow his eyes to drift shut.

 

*

 

**> L <**

 

Louis sat across from Niall and Harry, his leg bouncing uncontrollably. He knew what they had to tell him was important and might help him, but he hated talking about anything to do with the current situation - Wayne, court, death, any of it. They’d given him a few days to collect himself and get back to a pretty normal schedule, but this conversation was time sensitive - it needed to happen now.

 

“Lou, I … after you, umm … well, I started doing some research. I wanted to help and I wasn’t quite sure how I could,” Harry began, and Louis reached across the table to take his hand, feeling better the moment his skin made contact with Harry’s. “And I found something that might help. Apparently, there are ways that a person can testify for court without actually having to be present in the courtroom.”

 

Niall slid a stack of notes over to him, pointing out the title at the top of one of them. “If a person is currently being seen by a doctor or therapist, that doctor or therapist can declare their patient unfit to appear in court. They call it a medical dispensation.”

 

Louis flinched at the terminology, and Harry was quick to reassure him. “What Niall means is that there’s this status for people who are unable to testify in front of others. The people connected to this case are aware of your mutism and would not be surprised if you claimed to be what they call a vulnerable witness.”

 

“The full claim would be that you are, as they say, impaired in social functioning. You may not be able to communicate if you were to be placed in open court, and since we already have a restraining order, you wouldn’t have to go to court anyway because Wayne can’t be near you, and I would never want to put you in such a position.”

 

Niall took in a deep breath after his small rant, and Louis looked over the notes, skimming the sentences and additions in Harry’s neat handwriting. It made sense. A lot of sense, actually. But his anxiety seemed to be on a different page - instead of lessening, it was increasing at an alarming rate, and Louis could feel his breaths beginning to quicken. 

 

“So … so I would …” Louis stuttered, trying to ask about ten questions at once and not finding the words for any of them. 

 

“They would bring someone here and you would testify on camera. Tell your side of things without having to go to court. You’d only be talking to one person,” Harry said encouragingly, but it didn’t make Louis feel any better about it. His head was starting to ache at the memories now flooding back to him, clouding his every thought. He opened his mouth, ready to refuse, but no words came out.

 

“Lou, it’s alright. You don’t have to decide now. We just wanted to tell you. We wanted to make sure you knew all the information, and that you have options,” Niall said kindly. Harry nodded, agreeing, but Louis now felt like he was going to be sick. 

 

He stood up abruptly, bolting for the bathroom and barely making it to the toilet before all the food he’d had that day came up. He retched and shivered as it just kept coming, but even as his stomach started to relax, the rest of him was consumed by everything. 

 

He felt hands in his hair and he made a noise of protest, but the hands stayed, brushing it off his sweaty forehead. He started to relax, his mind focusing sharply on the sensation.

 

“You’re okay. Just get it all up, and I’ll tuck you away in bed, yeah?” Harry’s soft voice made Louis focus, and he sat up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and shuddering at the terrible taste in his mouth. Harry was knelt down behind him, running his fingers through his hair gently. Louis closed his eyes, leaning into the touch slightly.

 

“I can’t do it,” Louis whispered as Harry got him to his feet and lead him to his room. He curled under his covers, not facing Harry. He didn’t want to see the disappointment on his face. Harry didn’t say anything for a bit, and Louis could feel him hovering, unsure of what to do. He just buried deeper under his covers, wanting to be left alone. 

 

He heard the door click shut and that’s when he let himself cry. His pillow was soaked in minutes, but he couldn’t stop. Everything was such a mess in his head. He knew that he was his only hope of making sure Wayne didn’t come after him or his friends, but at the same time, he knew he couldn’t tell that story again, especially not to a stranger. He could barely get words out to Harry and Niall, and he didn’t know enough sign language to muddle through the entire thing. If Wayne found out what he was doing, restraining order be damned, he’d find him, and everything Louis had worked so hard for these last years would be for nothing. He didn’t want to risk it.

 

Louis pulled out the crumpled picture of him with his mum and sister and stared at it through bleary eyes. 

 

“I don’t k-know what to do …” he whispered, touching his mother’s face. “W-wish you w-were here.”

 

The picture said nothing back to him, but he felt a little better, or maybe he was finally losing his mind and cracking under the strain. 

 

Someone cleared their throat behind him, and he turned slowly, expecting to see Harry again, but it was Niall. They just looked at each other for a few moments, and Louis was hit with a wave of guilt. He’d been so caught up in his new relationship with Harry and then all of this trial stuff that he’d sort of neglected his friend. Niall had gotten him through everything and this was how he was repaying him?

 

“Can I sit with you?” Niall asked, and Louis just nodded, turning away again so Niall couldn’t see his tears. He felt the bed dip behind him, but still he stayed silent. “I’m sorry.”

 

That made Louis turn around. He wanted to scream  _ what the fuck are you sorry for? It’s me who should be sorry. I’ve been a shit friend, _ but all he managed was a confused gasp. Luckily, Niall elaborated. 

 

“I know that the knowledge of Wayne’s impending release has been really hard on you. I don’t even want to say his name for fear of hurting you. But I put all this on you, I tried to push you into something you’re not ready for, and I’m sorry.”

 

Niall looked a bit teary, and Louis sat up and gripped Niall’s wrist, shaking his head frantically, wanting to say a million things to berate Niall for his unnecessary apology. 

 

“I just … I’m scared, Lou. I remember being there, running into your house and seeing him with that gun, seeing you under the table, and … and your family. I hate the thought that someone who would do something that horrible could be let out of any prison. I hate thinking that you’ll be consumed by fear every day that he walks free. I hate having to actually consider how I would feel if I lost my best friend.” Niall sniffed and wiped at his eyes, and Louis felt a lump growing in his throat. “I want you to be safe and happy. That’s why I was angling so hard for you to testify. But I know that you’re not comfortable with it, and I won’t push it if you feel you can’t do it.”

 

Louis choked on a sob, pulling his knees to his chest. “N-Ni, I …”

 

Niall shook his head, wrapping an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “It’s alright. We’ll find another way. We can protect you, and we will, no matter what it takes.”

 

Louis just nodded, leaning his head on Niall’s shoulder, his breath hitching as he tried to stop crying. 

 

“M’lucky t-to have you …” Louis mumbled when he could finally breathe again. Niall squeezed his shoulders for a moment before standing up and wiping the remaining tears off his cheeks. 

 

“I’m the lucky one. Now … I’m gonna go pick up some food. Chinese maybe? Whatever you want. And we can just have a lad’s night. I’ll invite Liam if you want. 

 

Louis nodded, liking the thought of having a night where he didn’t have to think about the mess of his life. Niall smiled and left the room, and Louis sank back against his pillows. He was exhausted. Maybe a few hours of sleep would do him good. 

 

*

 

Louis woke to the sound of someone pounding on the front door. He felt fear starting to curl in his stomach almost at once. Logically, he knew it couldn’t be who he thought it was, but as the pounding began again, his logic disappeared as terror took its place. He listened carefully in the silence that had now fallen, and he could hear the shower running. Harry must be in there.

 

Louis slid slowly from his bed, shaking from head to toe and took a few tentative steps towards his door, peering into the hallway. No one was there, but then the knocking came again, more insistent and, to Louis, angrier than before. 

 

As he made his way carefully down the small hallway, he fought off the increasingly horrible scenarios now clouding his thoughts.  _ It’s just Niall. It’s Niall and he forgot his keys and doesn’t want the food to get cold _ , Louis repeated over and over again as he neared the kitchen. He jumped as Niall poked his head out of the kitchen, his arms still laden with bags of food. 

 

“Who the fuck …” he muttered. Louis froze where he stood. His mind was again consumed with the darkest of thoughts, and his worst fears were taking him over, making everything sound and seem far away.

 

“Lou, Lou, no, it’s not him. I promise you. He’s locked up. Listen to me, Louis.” Niall was in front of him then, holding his shoulders and forcing Louis to face him. “Breathe. You’re safe. I’ll see who it is.”

 

Louis barely managed a nod, trying to breathe carefully like Tom had discussed with him during some of their sessions. Niall was right. There was no way Wayne could get to him. He wasn’t free yet. 

 

He closed his eyes and remembered the smell of lavender and vanilla, the soft sound of Harry’s voice, the feeling of Harry’s fingers running through his hair, scratching at his scalp, the feeling of Harry’s lips on his forehead, his cheeks, his mouth. 

 

“You’ll let me in to see my sorry excuse for a nephew or I’ll make you!”

 

A screeching voice made Louis’ eyes snap open. If there was one person he wanted to see less than the man who had ruined his life, it was his aunt. Yet there she was, standing red faced and furious in the doorway, blocked by Niall. 

 

Louis was completely ready to feel the panic he’d just managed to dissolve come back in full force, but it didn’t happen. Instead, something else took root in him, starting in his stomach and spreading like fire throughout his whole body.

 

“What’s going on?” Harry’s voice said from behind him, and Louis felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Harry must have just gotten out of the shower. But Louis didn’t have time to turn around and acknowledge or explain, because his aunt was yelling again.

 

“I’ll tell you what’s going on. This pathetic twat won’t testify, which means Wayne could go free. That puts my life in danger! I won’t have it, I won’t!”

 

“You don’t have any right to demand anything of him. If you’re so worried, go file an restraining order like he did,” Niall said, and though his voice was steady, Louis didn’t miss the venom behind it. It only fueled the feeling growing inside him. 

 

“No. He’s going to do as I say.” His aunt tried to force her way past Niall, her eyes wide and glowering at Louis over his shoulder. “You’ll grow a fucking pair and get up in front of that courtroom and you’ll send his sorry ass back to jail, cause I ain’t dying at his hand like your sorry mum and sister.”

 

That did it for Louis. The boiling anger that had slowly been consuming him since the moment he laid eyes on her exploded in his mind, and he found himself talking in a deadly whisper. 

 

“No. I won’t. I don’t care about you. You made my life hell. And I … I am not responsible for what happens to you.”

 

He could see Niall’s mouth drop open, and could only assume that Harry’s expression was something similar, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He took a step forward, towards the door, and his aunt stopped fighting Niall, looking terrified for once in her life. It only gave Louis more purpose. 

 

“Get the fuck away from me. I never want to see you again.”

 

She bared her teeth, hitching her fake leather bag higher on her shoulder in an attempt to dignify herself. “You’ll see him walk free. And when he does, he’ll come for me, and my death, my blood, will be on your hands.”

 

With that, she turned and left. Louis just stood there, staring at the empty doorway, his hands balled into fists at his sides. The anger was slowly ebbing away now, even as Niall closed the door, but he had one more thing to say. His aunt had mentioned something in her rant that had struck a chord with Louis. She was right about one thing - the people close to him would be in danger. He didn’t care about her - they weren’t close in any way that mattered. But he did care about Harry and Niall and Liam and Tom and Carol and everyone who had helped him to control and overcome his demons in the last few years. He would never put their lives at risk. 

 

He faced Niall, who was still looking shocked and a bit concerned. He squared his shoulders, praying that his words came out the way he intended them. 

 

“I’ll do it. I’ll do the video. I want to testify.”

 

*

  
  


All things considered, Louis thought he’d made progress this week, even though he hadn’t spoken a word since telling Niall he wanted to testify. In addition to the restraining order, Niall and Harry had worked to get in contact with the people presiding over the trial and Louis’ doctors - Liam and Tom - so that they would be able to confirm his status as a vulnerable witness. Today, Louis was meeting with Tom for the first time since the news of Wayne’s possible release had been announced. 

 

As they drove up to Hope Trust, Louis started to feel anxious. Other than going to work last week, he hadn’t been out in public much since his picture had been all over the news. And he wasn’t quite sure he counted going to work as going out, especially since he’d been relatively numb for those few days. Today, he was very aware of every single person passing them in cars or on the street. He could almost feel the eyes on him as he got out of the car and followed Niall inside. 

 

Harry had gone back to work a few days ago, and Louis was going to meet him after his session with Tom, but he already missed him. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was healthy, but he hadn’t been much of a boyfriend to Harry for quite some time, and their relationship was new. Now that he was starting to be able to focus on other things, he realized just how much he missed Harry. 

 

They made their way to the second floor, and when they emerged into the open common area, Liam was there waiting for him, a smile on his face as he welcomed them.

 

“Niall, good to see you, mate!” Liam said, pulling Niall into a hug. “And Louis, really good to see you. How are you?”

 

Liam’s face contorted as he realized what he’d just asked, but Louis wasn’t bothered by it at this point. He was here to gather the tools and skills he needed to put Wayne in jail for good. He had that one thought to motivate him, and now he was here, two and a half weeks from the trial, his determination like fire in his veins. 

 

“I’m okay, th-thanks, Liam,” he replied, only stuttering on one word. Liam’s smile grew wide at his words. He clapped Niall on the shoulder. 

 

“Gotta run, but I figured I’d be here to welcome you back. Have a good session, Louis.”

 

Louis nodded in thanks as Liam hurried off, and Niall nudged him playfully. “Already talking to Liam, I see. Guess I’m not the special one anymore, eh?”

 

Louis blushed at the compliment and nudged Niall back. “Y-you’re always special.”

 

Niall put a hand to his heart, gasping in mock adoration as the door next to them opened and Tom stepped out into the hallway. 

 

“Hi, Louis, good to see you again.”

 

Louis offered his hand, albeit a little tentatively, but he felt a bit more confident when Tom didn’t ask any questions, but shook it enthusiastically. Louis waved bye to Niall, who was off to work, and walked in ahead of Tom as he closed the door behind them. 

 

Nothing was said as Tom moved to sit behind his desk, and only when Louis was seated did Tom open his mouth to speak. 

 

“I’m not going to pretend that I haven’t watched the news, or that I haven’t looked up the details of this case. But I will say that you’re showing incredible bravery coming here today. Liam told me why you’re here, and I’m honored that you trust me enough to help you.”

 

Louis’ eyes filled with sudden tears, but this time, they weren’t tears of fear or sadness, but tears of gratitude.

 

“Th-thank you,” Louis replied, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. “I, umm …” He tried to think of what he wanted to say, but now that he was here, what he was intending to do seemed that much more real, and he found himself losing the words he wanted. 

 

“We can just start with your usual exercises, if that would make you feel more comfortable,” Tom offered, and Louis nodded, trying not to feel dejected. Just today, he’d spoken more words than he had in the last week. It was something. It was progress.

 

They went through their paces, humming first, then moving to vowel sounds, and then on to small words. Louis’ throat felt dry by the time he was done, and he gulped down the bottle of water Tom offered him. 

 

“Let’s try some small sentences, then. You don’t really need more than that for what you’re planning to do,” said Tom, and Louis swallowed his nerves, nodding and sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He was ready. He had to be.

 

*

 

He left the session frustrated with himself, and though Tom had assured that they could have more sessions if he wanted, Louis wasn’t feeling particularly optimistic. 

 

When he caught sight of Harry waiting for him, curls bouncy and dimples denting his cheeks, the knot in his chest lessened, and he found himself smiling as he walked right over and put his arms around Harry, inhaling deeply. 

 

“Hi to you too, Lou,” Harry said with a bit of a laugh, and Louis sighed as Harry’s arms squeezed him. He let his head rest on Harry’s chest for a minute, listening for his heartbeat. Eventually, Harry pulled back, cupping Louis’ cheeks gently. “How was it with Tom?”

 

Louis shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it right now. He found Harry’s hand and laced their fingers together, needing his touch. Harry didn’t press him, just went with him happily down the stairs, talking a mile a minute. 

 

“So I was thinking that maybe I’d do photography on the side, you know? When I go to Uni, I mean. I really want to do some sort of medical therapy, but lately, I’ve been taking a lot of pictures. We’ve just had all this snow, and it really makes for fantastic shots. Did you think about that, yet?”

 

Louis looked up as they exited the building. He and Harry had had a conversation about Uni ages ago, right when Louis was starting sign language. They’d been learning single words, and Harry had gone on a five minute rant about the difference between two words, which had led to a very brief Uni discussion. Louis was surprised Harry had remembered that.

 

If he was being honest, Louis had recently started to consider going to Uni himself. He’d never finished sixth form, but he could do some research on how to do that. The events of the last few weeks had him really thinking of what he wanted his life to look like, assuming Wayne didn’t get out and murder him in cold blood. The thought still made bile rise in his throat, but he’d gotten better at ignoring it, instead trying to focus on the positive so that he wasn’t in a constant state of panic. 

 

He’d thought of a dozen different things he wanted to do, but none of them seemed quite right. Hearing Harry talk about it, however, was getting him back to thinking about it.

 

“Not sure,” he mumbled as a group of teenagers passed them on the street, clearly having just gotten out of school. They all stared at him and started whispering together, and Louis felt the confidence he’d started to build over the last few days shrivel up inside him, making him feel vulnerable and small. 

 

“Hey, you could say hi to him next time instead of treating him like an object,” Harry called after them. Louis shook his head, tugging Harry along and keeping his gaze fixed on his feet. 

 

“Not worth it,” he whispered as he took a look up at Harry’s annoyed expression. 

 

“They were being rude, Lou. I hate that people treat you like you’re just a news story instead of an actual person who went through actual trauma,” Harry grumbled, clearly frustrated. Louis stopped them walking and leaned up to kiss Harry’s cheek softly. Harry looked as shocked as Louis felt at his actions, but Louis offered his boyfriend a soft smile. 

 

_ I have you. I don’t need them _ , he signed before grabbing Harry’s hand again. Harry’s cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink at Louis’ words, and they walked on, the Yankee Diner finally coming into view. 

 

They reached the door and made their way inside the cozy restaurant. The telly in the corner of the store had been switched to a movie channel instead of the news, and, thankfully, the place didn’t go silent when Louis walked in, as it had the first few times he’d gone back last week. 

 

Harry turned so they were facing each other. “Hey, I’ll see you later, yeah? I know it’s an early night for you, so I’ll make some snacks and we can watch a movie when you get home?”

 

Louis nodded, leaning his forehead against Harry’s. The urge to kiss him was overwhelming, but he remembered what it felt like, how he reacted to it, and he couldn’t afford to get swept up in it right now. 

 

He just nodded, pressing his lips together and taking one good look at Harry’s face, his constant smile and his sparkling green eyes, and squeezed his hands before he headed behind the counter to grab an apron. He waved as Harry left, looping the apron over his head. 

 

Carol stepped out of the kitchen then, smiling softly at him. “Louis! Glad you’re here tonight. Was gonna be just me and the kitchen staff. Would you be a dear and clear off a few tables for me?”

 

Louis hesitated, wondering whether or not to ask Carol for the thing he’d been contemplating as of late. She noticed his reluctance and cocked her head to the side, touching his arm gently. 

 

“What’s going on, darling?”

 

Louis cleared his throat. “I … I want to d-do register. Please.”

 

Carol looked surprised. “Are you sure? There’s a lot of people in here today, Lou.”

 

“Yeah. I want t-to get b-better at t-talking,” Louis clenched his fist, trying to stop himself stuttering, but Carol didn’t look upset. On the contrary, she looked excited. 

 

“Of course, love. You just let me know if you want to switch at any time. I’ll get started on those tables. 

 

Louis nodded and turned to face the register, where a few kids from the local school were standing, uniform jackets thrown over their shoulders. He swallowed and stepped up to the register, taking their receipt and typing in the information. 

 

“Th-that’s going to be, um, seven ninety nine,” Louis said. The girls smiled at him and handed over their money. Louis felt a bit better about his decision as they thanked him and left. Maybe he actually could do this.

 

*

 

Louis’ shift went on without incident until ten minutes before he was due to leave.  He had just offered a good evening to an elderly man without stuttering when the door swung open, bringing in a chilling gust of wind along with Vince and the other boys. Louis’ blood ran cold as he and Vince made eye contact, and Vince smirked, but led his friends over to a table by the window, ignoring Louis completely. 

 

“You let me know if those boys bother you, Louis,” Carol said from behind him. Louis nodded, going back to wiping down the counter.

 

A mum and her five year old appeared at the register and Louis rung her up, handing a sticker to the little boy, who hid behind his mother’s leg. Louis noticed a white bandage on his head. 

 

“He’s a bit shy. He just had surgery to fix his hearing - he’s still getting used to the sounds,” the mum offered as explanation, pulling the notes she needed out of her wallet. 

 

Louis smiled at the little boy, who was watching him with curious brown eyes. Louis lifted his hands and signed hello to him. Immediately, the little boy smiled and signed hello back, carefully spelling out his name. 

 

“Ollie - what a b-beautiful name,” Louis said to his mother, and she smiled.

 

“It’s not often Ollie has someone he can communicate with. We taught him sign young, even though we were saving up for this surgery. He prefers it, if you’ll believe me,” she explained, and Louis found himself smiling. 

 

“Oi, Lewis! We can’t hear you over here, can you speak up?” Vince yelled suddenly from across the diner, and Louis felt his smile disappear. He shook his head and looked down at the notes in his hand, trying to remember the change he was supposed to be giving the woman. 

 

“Don’t listen to them, Louis,” the woman said kindly, pronouncing his name correctly. “It was one forty, love.”

 

Louis counted out her change and handed it over, trying not to be upset as the laughs of Vince and his friends echoed around the diner.

 

“Th-ank ya,” Ollie said in a loud, careful voice, signing the words as he spoke them. Louis signed back, and Ollie jumped up and down, clapping his hands. 

 

“You’re really quite good with kids,” the mum said kindly, taking her son’s hand in hers. “Thank you for being kind to Ollie.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Louis said softly, his cheeks flaming at her compliment. They left the diner, the bell tinkling as the door swung closed. 

 

“I said I couldn’t hear you,” growled a voice in Louis’ ear, and he flinched as Vince’s clammy hand clamped down on his wrist. 

 

Louis could feel his breath starting to come in short pants, hating the feeling of Vince’s hand on him, but he refused to let Vince intimidate him like this. His murderer of a step-father could be released from jail in two weeks - Louis had more important things to be afraid of than a bunch of bullies. 

 

He yanked his hand free, glaring at Vince’s blocky face. “Don’t touch me.”

 

Vince and his friends whistled and howled, and Vince laughed. “Oh, so the mute  _ does  _ have a voice. Wow, I’m scared now.” He leaned over the counter and Louis backed away, not wanting to be touched again. “You’re fucking pathetic, you know that? You should have died with the rest of your family.”

 

“How dare you say such horrible things,” said Carol’s voice from behind Louis. Vince snorted, but Carol wasn’t deterred. She made her way out of the kitchen, brushing off the front of her apron. 

 

“And what exactly are you going to do about it?” Vince growled, baring his teeth. 

 

Carol looked ready for a fight, but Louis put a hand on her wrist. He couldn’t bear it if she got hurt. As much as he believed in her ability to handle herself, there were five of them and one of her. 

 

“Just leave,” Louis said firmly, staring them down. There was a ringing silence in which Vince seemed to be contemplating if Louis was serious or not. 

 

“You’re no fun to bully when you fight back, you know. Why don’t you go back to being mute - it’s not like your voice matters to anyone,” Vince retorted, but then he turned and left, followed by his friends. 

 

As soon as the door closed, Louis let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, and he gripped the counter hard, feeling a little lightheaded after that confrontation. 

 

“Louis, that was … amazing,” Carol said, looking at him in surprise. “You stood up for yourself … I’m so proud of you!”

 

Louis blushed, allowing Carol to pull him into a hug. She rubbed his back gently and Louis was taken back to a time when his mum would hold him like this. He wondered if Carol had picked up this soothing technique from her. 

 

“Your momma would be so proud of you, lovie,” Carol muttered so no one else could hear. Louis’ throat went tight immediately, but he just pulled back and nodded, giving her a small smile. Carol wiped a tear from her cheek and chuckled at herself. “Anyway. You get out of here. Go home to your boy.”

 

Louis found himself feeling particularly warm at the thought of Harry waiting for him at home with snacks and a movie and blankets. He didn’t stop smiling all the way out to Niall’s car. 

 

“What’s up with you, Lou? You seem … different,” Niall commented as Louis slid into the passenger’s seat. 

 

“Going home,” Louis mumbled, leaning back in his seat. He couldn’t wait to get back to their flat, to Harry. He’d done a lot today, and right now, all he wanted to do was relax. 

 

*

  
  


The days had gone by too quickly for Louis’ liking. Every moment he wasn’t at work or sleeping, he was working on figuring out how to tell his story without panicking. He felt completely exhausted, and yet, it took him forever to fall asleep at night. And when sleep finally came, he was plagued with nightmares, all with the same horrible ending. 

 

That’s why he was sitting on his desk with the window open in the dead of night, shivering but refusing to protect himself from the cold. The cold kept him focused on something that wasn’t his fears about Wayne, which were so present, it was like they’d taken a form of their own. It felt like they were staring at him, sneaking closer, trying to smother him into silence. 

 

He looked up at the sky which was clear with the exception of a few scattered clouds and stars. He could see his favorites - he had always loved mythology, especially when he was younger. His mum had bought him every book on the myths and the stars she could get her hands on, and they’d studied the constellations together. Orion had never been his favorite hero, but his constellation was one of Louis’ favorites. The belt of Orion was made up of three stars, and Louis had always liked to imagine that those three stars represented him and his little family. Ever since they’d died, it seemed like the two outer stars had glowed just a little brighter. 

 

“Am … am I d-doing the right thing?” Louis whispered to the night, his eyes focused on the right most star. It winked at him, or maybe it was a trick of a small cloud, but Louis felt a little less scared and a little more brave. He looked over to the left most star. “What do y-you think, Vic?”

 

The wind gusted heavily, blowing right through Louis’ loose t-shirt and boxers, and he curled into a tighter ball, somehow feeling a lot more confident than he had just moments before. He’d come to be a very practical and rational person - he hardly believed in stuff like soulmates and signs, but Harry had changed that. Harry lived his life by the signs, taking risks even when the end goal seemed impossible. Harry believed in everything, and maybe it was time Louis took the risk of believing that his mum and sister were watching him, answering him, helping him through this one last thing. 

 

“Lou? S’cold, come back to bed,” a voice mumbled from behind him, and Louis turned, just catching the sight of a very sleepy Harry peering at him from under his covers. Harry had taken to sleeping in his bed the last few nights, not for any reason other than Louis had asked him to. He didn’t want to be alone. And right now, though he didn’t feel remotely alone, he wanted to go back and burrow into the arms of one of the few people he had here in real life. 

 

He turned back to the window, looking up at Orion’s Belt one more time. “I’ll set you free. I promise.” 

 

He closed the window, his fingertips numb, and crawled back under the duvet, snuggling up to Harry and laying his head on his boyfriend’s bare chest. He closed his eyes and listened to his heartbeat, trying to push the thought of what he had to do in the morning out of his mind. For now, that didn’t matter. For now, all that was real to him was the feeling of Harry’s breath on his hair, and the lulling sound of his heart beneath his chest.

 

*

 

Louis woke up abruptly, his heart pounding and his head spinning. Wayne had been right there, inches from him, his teeth bared and a gun in his hand, he was sure of it. He pulled his knees to his chest and tried to focus on deep breaths. He didn’t need this, not today. Especially not today. 

 

When he felt relatively calm, he pulled himself out from under the covers and sat on the edge of his bed, staring around the room. 

 

If it weren’t for the button up, slacks, and tie hanging on the back of his door and the stack of notecards on his desk, it would have been just another normal day. Another day that he’d be working towards leading a normal life and trying to forget about Wayne and what he’d done. But today wasn’t a normal day. Today, Louis would be speaking of his past to someone who wasn’t Harry or Niall for the first time. His words and actions would be filmed and shown to an entire courtroom, including the person he hoped to send to jail for good. He wished it had never come to this.

 

His door opened and he jolted from his thoughts, wiping away the tears he hadn’t known were on his cheeks hastily. Niall had a plate in his hand, and now that he thought about it, he had smelled pancakes earlier. 

 

“Morning, Lou. You alright?” Niall asked, setting the plate on Louis’ desk next to the notecards. Louis shrugged, not really sure what he could say that would make Niall understand the mixture of feelings he was harboring inside. 

 

Niall sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulders, and Louis let his head drop onto Niall’s shoulder, sighing. 

 

“I shouldn’t be here,” Louis whispered, and Niall sat up straight, alarmed. Louis was quick to amend his statement. “N-no, not like … I mean … this should h-have … never ha-happened. I should have s-seen the … the …”

 

Niall shook his head, pulling Louis back to him, and Louis went, needing Niall’s comfort more than anything right now. “There’s nothing you could have done, even if you’d known. He would have killed you. But you’re right - Laura and Vic should still be here. But we’re here now. And after today, well, you shouldn’t have to worry about it ever again. He’ll be put away, Lou. He won’t be able to hurt you or anyone else.”

 

Louis closed his eyes, turning his face into Niall’s neck so he didn’t have to see his expression when he spoke his next words. “We d-don’t know that. They could l-l-let him go.”

 

“They won’t.”

 

Louis lifted his head, seeing Harry entering his room and towelling his hair dry. He couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his face at the sight of Harry’s chest. Niall gave Louis a squeeze and then stood, handing Louis the plate. 

 

“Come on, Louis. Breakfast time. And then you get to let me mess with your hair.”

 

Louis rolled his eyes playfully, knowing that he’d just end up washing it a second time after his shower to get out all the product that Niall was sure to use, claiming he knew what he was doing. Harry giggled and Niall scoffed, snatching the plate back and stalking off towards the kitchen. 

 

Harry walked over and tugged on one of Louis’ t-shirts, which was just a bit on the small side for him. He grinned when his head finally popped out the head hole, and Louis covered his mouth, laughing for the first time in what felt like ages. 

 

“You’re going to do great, you know?” Harry said, holding his hand out for Louis to take. Louis reached for it and let Harry pull him up, right to his chest. Louis tilted his head up only slightly, and Harry’s lips were on him in a sweet, chaste kiss. It was enough to make Louis’ knees a bit wobbly. “And as soon as it’s over, we can go to that pizza place you like and celebrate, yeah?”

 

Louis nodded, letting his forehead lean against Harry’s as he let his brain once again run over the words he’d perfected over the last week. 

 

“Thank you. For everything,” Louis murmured, pulling Harry closer by his waist, wanting to be near him. Harry’s hands found Louis’ hips and touched them lightly. 

 

“Come on, Lou. Better get out there before Niall eats all the pancakes,” Harry said with a bit of a laugh, and Louis huffed out his amusement, kissing Harry’s cheek before grabbing his clothes and heading for the bathroom. He needed just a bit more time to himself before he walked out there and faced what would be either the best or worst decision he’d ever made. 

 

When he was finally dressed and ready, he made his way to the kitchen, where Harry and Niall were bickering about something random, as they’d begun to do over the past few weeks. While Louis usually found it annoying, today, he saw the endearing quality of it. His best friend and his boyfriend, in his flat, trying to seem like today was just an ordinary day for his sake. Niall jumped up at once, his eyes alight with excitement. 

 

“Grab a plate and follow me to the bathroom, young Louis,” Niall proclaimed, and Louis pouted, but Niall wasn’t about to be deterred, and Louis knew that this was Niall’s way of not thinking about the eventual consequences, good or bad, of today’s events. 

 

An hour later, Louis was staring at himself in the mirror, surprised. Niall had styled his hair up off of his forehead, something he’d never done. He found it easier to just swoop it to the side and forget about it. He’d certainly never had anyone to impress with anything fancy before. But somehow, Niall had managed to make him look older, more mature, and he thought that it might help him look more reliable in his video, at least. 

 

Niall was standing by the door with his scrubs on, about to head off to work. “Didn’t want to leave without wishing you luck, even though you don’t need it. You’re going to be fine, Lou. Just be honest. Don’t hold anything back. Tell them what that bastard did.”

 

“Niall …” Harry chastised, but Louis went right to Niall, hugging him tightly. He breathed in deeply, letting Niall know that it was okay, that he was going to do his absolute best. Niall understood, and left, leaving Louis and Harry alone in the flat once more. 

 

“They said they’d be here in about ten minutes. Do you want to go over it one more time?” Harry suggested, but Louis shook his head. He felt sick, and doubted that he would say anything intelligible if he tried to explain his feelings. Harry patted the sofa next to him, and Louis made his way over there, sitting on the very edge of the cushion, feeling stiff.

 

They sat in silence for the next ten minutes. At some point during that, Harry had slid his hand over, linking his pinky to Louis’, and Louis held onto that small amount of contact, never before appreciating just how much Harry understood him. Harry knew when it was okay to touch him and when he wanted space - he knew when Louis wanted to talk and when he wanted to contemplate. He knew what he needed and never complained or got upset. 

 

There was a gentle knock on the door and Louis looked up, his eyes going wide as he realized that the time was upon them. Harry shot him a look and stood to answer the door. This procedure was usually done at a police station, but because of Louis’ circumstances, Niall had gotten his friend to talk them into doing it here. 

 

Harry had returned with a small woman in tow, followed by a taller man with a camera and various other recording devices packed into a black leather bag slung over his shoulder.  

 

“Hi, Louis. My name is Jane and this is my associate, Rob. It’s very nice to meet you, despite the circumstances. May we set up?”

 

Louis nodded, hesitating only slightly before reaching out to shake her hand. She shook it with a smile before following Rob, who headed into the kitchen to set up at the table.

 

Louis felt his stomach churning as he realized that there was no more time - this was it. This was the moment that basically defined how the rest of his life would go, or whether he’d have one after the trial was complete. 

 

“Louis …” Harry said slowly, but Louis just shook his head, pulling himself towards Harry’s chest and pressing his face to Harry’s sweater, breathing in the smell of vanilla and strawberries. He gripped tightly into the fabric, not wanting to let go, but a small cough forced them to break apart. Jane was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, smiling softly. 

 

“We’re ready for you, if you are. It won’t take long, I can assure you. Your boyfriend can wait outside if he would like.”

 

Harry nodded and pressed a kiss to Louis’ forehead. Louis closed his eyes, trying to focus on that, to remember that sensation for when he got worked up, as would surely happen in the coming minutes. 

 

“I’ll be right outside, Lou. I’m not going anywhere,” Harry promised, and Louis just nodded, holding onto Harry’s hand until his fingers slipped away and Jane closed the door behind them, leaving herself, Rob, and Louis alone in the small space. Louis took a deep breath, thinking of Harry, and sat down opposite them, trying not to stare directly into the small camera.

 

“Umm … b-before we start,” Louis said, wincing at how soft and vulnerable he sounded. He cleared his throat and tried again, directing his words to Jane. “How did you know … about, uh, about me and Harry?”

 

Jane reached out and put her hand on Louis’ wrist. Louis only flinched a little. “Because you guys look at each other the same way I look at my wife and daughter. Unconditional love is what I saw.”

 

Louis blushed, thinking of how bashful Harry would get at hearing that. He’d have to tell him later. 

 

Rob reached around his laptop and pressed a small button on the camera, which changed the small light at the bottom from red to blue, indicating that it was on and ready to go. Louis breathed deeply. 

 

Jane reached for a notepad and looked up at Louis, her pen poised and ready to go. “Please state your name and your age.”

 

“Louis Tomlinson, eighteen years old,” Louis said smoothly, trying not to look too proud of himself for that small victory. 

 

“Very good. Please tell us your relationship to the suspect.”

 

“W-Wayne Tomlinson was my stepfather.”

 

“Yes. Alright, Louis. Please tell us what happened on the night of Wayne’s arrest.”

 

Louis swallowed, picturing Wayne’s face purposefully for the first time in years. At this moment, he didn’t feel fear. He felt anger. It was long past time for Wayne to pay for what he’d done. He opened his mouth and began to speak. 

  
  


*

 

Louis stared at the telly, not really seeing it at all, but he didn’t want to outwardly show how much his mind was spinning right now. 

 

Niall sat next to him on the sofa, straightening his tie and fiddling with his hair. Harry sat on his other side, still in his boxers and t-shirt, sipping on the tea he’d made for himself. Liam was standing by the door, keys in hand and jacket unzipped, revealing his three piece suit that he’d donned for the occasion. 

 

“Come on, Ni. We’re going to be late,” Liam said quietly, as though not being loud would prevent Louis from being reminded that today was the day that decided Wayne’s, and ultimately, his, fate. 

 

The video of his testimony, according to Niall’s friend Jake, had been shown in court on Friday, with a adjournment until Monday. In those few days, Louis hadn’t wanted to be seen. He’d stayed in from work and therapy and hidden away in his room, not knowing how to deal with the mix of emotions constantly churning inside him. 

 

Niall had offered to take him to the verdict, but Louis still shuddered at the idea. He didn’t think seeing Wayne, even if it was the back of his head and outside of the courthouse itself, would do him any favors. He just wanted this over with. He wanted it to end, one way or the other. 

 

So Niall and Liam were both going, and Harry was staying behind with him. Louis was inwardly grateful - he knew Harry probably didn’t want to spend the next several hours distracting him from whatever was to come.

 

Niall stood up, finally seeming satisfied, and pressed a hand to Louis’ shoulder, squeezing it slightly. Louis looked up, and he could see the fear that Niall tried so hard to hide in his eyes, which were side and a bit glassy. 

 

“Be back soon, you two,” Niall said, his voice not betraying his emotions at all. Liam nodded in agreement and in moments, they were closing the door to the flat behind them. 

 

There was a moment of silence in which Harry drank his tea loudly and Louis just sat there, staring at the closed door, wishing that this whole entire mess was just one very long bad dream. 

 

“So … what do you want to do?” Harry asked, his voice making Louis jump a little. Harry had put his tea down next to Louis’ untouched mug, and was now looking at him with curious eyes. “We can … watch a movie? Or we could bake cookies? Or we can just sit here and watch shit TV and not talk at all, if that’s what you prefer. Now that I mention it, though, I’ve been craving cookies for a while now …”

 

Louis shrugged. He was honestly down for anything that kept his mind off of what was happening a few miles away. 

 

Harry grinned, standing up and offering Louis his hand dramatically. “Cookies it is then. Let’s see if Niall keeps the kitchen stocked for my special extra chocolate chip cookies.”

 

Louis let himself be dragged into the kitchen, and he stood there, watching Harry rummage through the cupboards enthusiastically, pulling out a few things here and there. He had a sudden vision of himself in Harry’s kitchen, but in a new flat, one that was all theirs. One with a big enough kitchen for Harry to bake - he didn’t mention it often, but Louis knew it was something that Harry loved to do and didn’t have a lot of time or space for. His mind kept going, imagining them cuddled up on a soft leather couch under ten blankets, a rom com on, just kissing intermittently and trying not to cry at the inevitable ending. He imagined their room, where Harry would throw rose petals all over the place and light a thousand candles and take Louis slow and perfect, making his first time the absolute best it could possibly be. 

 

He snapped out of it as he heard Harry dump everything onto the small wooden table and blushed, hoping that Harry wouldn’t suddenly develop the ability to read minds. He got closer as he watched Harry space out the ingredients in a perfect order only he understood and reach for a few bowls, his face alight with excitement. Louis felt something stir inside him and the words were on his lips, but he didn’t say them. He didn’t want to say it yet - he wanted it to be perfect. 

 

“Alright, so we put the ingredients in one by one, dry ones in this bowl, wet ones in this bowl,” Harry instructed, inviting Louis closer. Louis shuffled nervously forward, his hand brushing against Harry’s slightly. It was like electricity running through his veins, and he breathed out a sigh, feeling content despite the circumstances of the world outside their little bubble. 

 

Louis began to help, doing everything Harry instructed, and soon enough, they had a bowl of lumpy dough, which they dumped two whole bags of chocolate chips into, per Harry’s request. 

 

As they baked away in the oven and Harry started the dishes, Louis suddenly had a thought. 

 

“Harry …”

 

Harry turned, his ever present smile widening at the sound of Louis’ voice. Louis liked that his voice made Harry feel that way - it made him less afraid of using it. 

 

“Yeah, Lou?”

 

“Tell me about your family.”

 

Harry’s eyes went a little wide in surprise, but he kept scrubbing at the bowls, a soft smile now gracing his face. 

 

“They’re wonderful, Lou. They’d love you. Gemma, my sister, she was always going on and on about how I was going to find my prince someday, how he’d be dashing and have the brightest eyes and the most exciting future. Guess she got that part right.”

 

Louis blushed furiously, shaking his head a little. Harry had always been an idealist, but Louis didn’t see how his future was anything other than bleak. But maybe Harry was right - he had been right about a lot of things lately. Harry just kept going, seemingly eager to share now that he was on a roll. 

 

“I don’t get to see them as often as I’d like - they live back in Holmes Chapel, where I’m from, and I go visit them a few times a year. Haven’t gone yet this year, but maybe I will. You could come, if you wanted to.”

 

Louis definitely wanted to, but he also wanted to know more. Their lives had been so focused on Louis’ problems and Louis’ recovery that Louis felt like he’d really left Harry out. He had to rectify it. He wanted to know everything. 

 

“My mum is probably one of the most amazing people in the world. She’s so supportive and beautiful and I don’t know what I’d do … umm, I mean …” Harry stuttered to a halt, his face red and his eyes downcast. Louis knew what he’d been about to say, and he kindly finished the sentence for him. 

 

“You don’t know what you’d do without her,” he said, not a single stutter, and Harry nodded, looking carefully back up at him. 

 

“Yeah. She’s everything to me. Always supported my choices and let me make my own mistakes, even if she was picking up the pieces of my heart afterwards. And my father, well, he left when I was little, but Mum got remarried to Robin a few years back, and he was amazing. More of a father to me than my real one, if I’m honest. He really cared for me. And my sister you already know is amazing. She’s such a goofball, like me, but she’s got a silver tongue too. Maybe that’s why she’s such a good writer, I don’t know.”

 

Louis just sat there, watching Harry talk about his family, and he realized that he and Harry lived the two extremes of broken homes. Harry’s family had broken and come back together in the most beautiful way. Louis’ family had been taken from him. It was a strange parallel that, somehow, made him feel closer to Harry. 

 

“And when I came out to them, it was like they wanted to throw a fucking party. Apparently, I wasn’t very subtle when it came to my preferences. I told them I was gay and they were like yeah, we know, where’s the champagne? It was great,” Harry continued with a smile, fiddling with the ring on his middle finger. 

 

“Where’s the ring from?” Louis asked quietly, the question one that he’d been harboring for some time. Harry’s gaze turned wistful as he looked down at it, turning it over and over around his finger.

 

“It was my grandmother’s, actually. She had really big fingers.” Harry huffed out a laugh and Louis found himself laughing too. “She died when I was twelve. And right before, she handed it to me and told me to keep it safe and to spread the message.”

 

Louis was confused, but then Harry pulled off the ring and handed it to him, pressing it gently into his palm. Louis turned it around in his fingers until he found the word etched into the silver: Peace.

 

Louis handed it back, feeling like Harry looked a bit naked without it on his finger. “That’s b-beautiful.”

 

Harry’s smile became a bit happier then, and he nodded. “Yeah, it really is. That’s why I’ve always wanted to become a doctor of some sort. I can help people. I can give them peace.”

 

Louis felt tears in his eyes and he moved his chair closer, hugging Harry to him and mouthing the three words he wanted to say more than anything against his hair. Harry’s head rested against his chest, and Louis found that he quite liked the weight of it there. It didn’t feel heavy. It felt comforting. 

 

The dinger went off and Harry nearly shot out of his seat, all of his sadness gone as he opened the oven door and reached in for the cookies. Louis sat up too, straightening his shirt and trying to pretend that he wasn’t concealing a semi in his loose joggers. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was the first time in a while, and Louis felt heartily embarrassed over it. 

 

“Oh my god, Lou, you’ve got to taste these,” Harry moaned, his mouth full of cookie, and Louis laughed, standing and taking the gooey cookie Harry offered him. He popped it into his mouth and sighed as the chocolate melted deliciously on his tongue. He savored it, his eyes closed, and only when he’d gotten every ounce of taste out of it that he could did he open them again, looking at Harry with a new adoration. 

 

“The best cookie I’ve ever had,” he said solemnly, and Harry snorted, eating another. Louis reached for a second one, but Harry’s hand got there first, smearing chocolate all over the back of Louis’. Louis gasped and stuck his finger into one of the more chocolaty ones and smeared it all over Harry’s cheek. 

 

“Oh, Louis, you’re gonna pay for that,” Harry said, picking up a whole cookie that seemed to be made entirely of chocolate chips, coming after him. Louis darted away, moving around the table, but Harry got him, the chocolate cooling quickly against his neck, where Harry’s hand still was, his touch gentle but firm. Louis swallowed, feeling a little light headed, but in a good way, and let Harry pull him into a kiss. It was like breathing after being underwater for too long. His whole body felt numb and floaty, but in the best way possible. Harry was all he could see and feel, and his hands moved up to cup Harry’s cheeks, not wanting him to stop for a single second. 

 

The door of the flat opened and they broke apart, both wheeling around. Niall and Liam were coming through the door, stamping off the cold and shivering. Their faces were impassive, and all the happiness Louis had been feeling disappeared in an instant, leaving behind a mingled sense of fear and dread. They were back so soon. Surely that couldn’t mean anything good. 

 

They both entered the kitchen and Niall reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper that was folded in half. He held it out, and Louis, shaking from head to toe, took it, knowing without any need for words that it was for him. 

 

He opened it slowly, feeling like he was going to pass out any second. It took him a moment to focus on the words, and then he read them. Once. Twice. Three times. The paper dropped from his fingers and fluttered to the floor. His legs felt like jello, and he collapsed to his knees, the sobs coming before he could stop them. 

 

Harry was on the floor in a second, picking up the paper and reading it aloud. “Wayne Tomlinson has been convicted for the murders of Laura Tomlinson and Victoria Tomlinson. He will serve a sentence of 80 years, at which time he will be available for parole … oh, Louis …”

 

Louis just cried harder, hardly daring to believe that the words Harry was reading to him were true. After all these years, after all of the worrying and the breakdowns and the therapists and everything, it was over. It was finally over. 

 

He could hear Liam and Niall talking excitedly, saying things about how the jury didn’t even need ten minutes to decide on a verdict, how Wayne had looked smug but how they’d taken him out handcuffed with his head bowed, so that he had no last sight of humanity before he was locked up for the rest of his life. How Louis’ testimony had been the final straw and had sentenced Wayne to his fate. 

 

Louis felt Harry’s arms around him, felt his lips everywhere, on his face, his hands, his hair. His chest felt lighter than it had ever felt. 

 

Louis allowed Harry to pull him to his feet, at which time, Liam and Niall descended upon the both of them, hugging them and shouting words of triumph. In the midst of it all, Louis finally stopped crying, his smile wider than it had ever been. He felt like his face might just break from it. 

  
  


“Louis … I’m so happy, I … how do you feel?” Harry asked, and Liam and Niall finally calmed down, waiting for Louis’ answer. For once, the answer was there, right there, and he found he could say it easily.

 

“I feel free.”

 

******************

 

 


	2. Epilogue

**> Epilogue <**

  
  


“Louis, you literally only have this one box left, what’s taking you so long?”

 

Niall’s shout reached Louis’ ears, but Harry’s lips were busy at his neck and he ignored them. He’d become a bit more comfortable with displaying affection to his boyfriend over the last few months, and even though they were still mostly concealed from any prying eyes, it still gave him a bit of a rush.

 

Harry reluctantly pulled away, giving Louis one last peck on the lips, which Louis smiled into. “I think we’d better get up there. Make this official and all, with the last box.”

 

Louis nodded and, tucking himself under Harry’s arm, walked up the flight of stairs and dropped the box right inside the door of his and Harry’s new flat, grinning as he surveyed the mess of half built furniture and empty cardboard boxes.

 

“About time. Niall was starting to wonder if you got lost,” Liam teased, looping his arm around Louis as Harry picked up the box he’d abandoned and walked it to the bathroom, where it would probably later be unloaded and placed painstakingly into the small linen closet. Louis chuckled and moved to close the door behind him, but Liam shook his head. “We’ll be leaving in a sec, me and Ni. Figured we’d give you both some time alone to adjust and unpack. Then we can have a proper flatwarming party or whatever you want to call it.”

 

“Sounds good. See you later then?” Louis asked, and Liam nodded again.

 

“Yankee Diner, half eight. Hopefully Carol won’t have her hands too full training the new guy.”

 

Louis grinned as Niall appeared from one of the two bedrooms, breathing heavily despite not having lifted a single box. Louis just rolled his eyes - Niall was always one for dramatics these days.

 

“We’ll be on our way, then, Lou. You and H take care, yeah, and we’ll see you tonight,” Niall said, clapping Louis on the shoulder. Louis saw them out and then closed the door, the sound echoing around the still mostly empty main room.

 

He took this time to take a look around, noting the bare walls that he wanted to cover with photos and the spaces where he thought the TV might look nice or he might put a side table. Really, the decorating was more Harry’s thing, but he let Louis help out too. After all, it was their home now. Louis wanted it to be theirs collectively, every part of it.

 

“What do you think, Lou?” Harry asked, finally emerging from the bathroom.

 

“You put the towels away, didn’t you?” Louis asked, clearing his throat. It was only now just starting to hurt, which he took as a good sign. He’d lasted almost a whole day this time.

 

Harry blushed and looped his arms around Louis’ waist, leaning their foreheads together. “Maybe … but just think, that’s one less box you have to do.”

 

“Alright,” Louis replied, leaning up a bit to peck Harry’s lips. They kissed for a few seconds, just living in the moment, and then broke apart as Harry’s face lit up.

 

“Oh my god, we need to order takeout. The worst kind, like McDonalds or something, and eat it on the floor and watch the telly. I’ve heard that’s what Americans do when they move into a new place and don’t have any furniture set up. Or, at least, they do it in movies sometimes, and I’ve always wanted to try it. What are you up for?”

 

“I can start unpacking if you w-want to run out and get some,” Louis answered, wincing at his stutter. Harry shook his head immediately, pulling Louis into a hug.

 

“You’ve done so good today, Lou. Your best day yet. I’m really proud of you, of how far you’ve come. It can only get better from here.”

 

Louis just nuzzled into Harry’s chest, breathing him in. It was weird to think that this was his life now. He didn’t have to worry about anyone coming after him. He didn’t have to worry that his mum and sister died in vain. He just had this - he had Harry and their new flat and their friends, and he’d never felt better.

 

“I know.”

 

*

 

**From Niall: Mate, stop snogging Harry and get out here. You’re gonna be late to your meeting with Dr. What’s Her Face.**

 

“Really wish you’d stop calling her that,” Louis mumbled to himself as he grabbed his hoodie from where he’d left it on the back of the now fully functioning sofa, sprinting out the door and down the stairs to where Niall was waiting in his car.

 

“You do know she has a name, right?” Louis asked as he swung himself into the car and buckled himself in. Niall rolled his eyes and stepped on the gas.

 

“Yeah, I know, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out how it’s pronounced,” he complained. Louis shook his head.

 

“Well, lucky for you, you don’t have to after today.”

 

Niall looked over at him as they stopped at the light. “That’s right. Today is your last session. How do you feel?”

 

Louis shrugged, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Dr. Maryse had been a godsend, literally, and Louis wasn’t sure if he’d have made it this far in his recovery if it hadn’t been for her.

 

He’d made the decision, about a week after Wayne was convicted, to see a PTSD specialist. He, Niall, Harry, and Liam had searched far and wide, trying to find someone that would be willing to see Louis at Hope Trust, since Louis felt most comfortable there, and finally, Liam had happened upon Dr. Imogen Maryse, who had just finished up her second doctoral program in Columbia. Liam had called her and they’d talked it over, and she’d agreed to work with Louis.

 

Six months into her sessions and Louis felt like a new person. He didn’t have nightmares nearly as often, and when he did, he knew how to calm himself and bring himself back to reality instead of getting stuck in the memories. He didn’t pass out when he saw blood now, and he could almost talk about what happened without completely breaking down. All of that, including his ability to speak almost normally to the people he was close to, and even some others, was significant progress, and Louis was proud of himself.

 

They pulled up in front of Hope Trust and Louis opened his door, looking up at the familiar building with a sense of wistful pride. He’d been going there long enough now that most everyone knew his name, and to look up at it, knowing it was one of the last times he’d be in the building where his mum had built an amazing legacy was a bit sad, but ultimately rewarding.

 

“You coming in?” Niall inquired, standing by the door. Louis nodded, following his friend inside. While Niall greeted everyone, Louis turned his attention to the picture behind the desk for The Blue Jay Program. His mother stared back at him, and Louis almost thought he could see pride in the blue eyes, almost as though she’d known what he’d endured and was happy that he’d, for the most part, overcome the hardships.

 

He and Niall headed up to the second floor, Louis nodding at many of the doctors and volunteer staff as they passed on the stairs. When they reached Dr. Maryse’s door, Niall hung back. This, these visits, had always been just Louis’ thing, and Niall understood very well that Louis wanted this to be just him.

 

“See you after?” he said softly to his friend, and Niall nodded.

 

“I’ll be right out here waiting. Then I’ll get you to work so Carol doesn’t eat me alive,” he said with a grin, and Louis grinned back.

 

He knocked politely on the door, even though Dr. Maryse had told him every day since he began his sessions that he was welcome to just enter when he pleased. Louis, however, was a stickler for manners, even now.

 

Once the door was closed and they’d greeted each other, Dr. Maryse sat opposite Louis on her comfortable couch and crossed her legs, smiling.

 

“So … it’s our last day together,” she noted, and Louis nodded in response. “I think, today, I want to reflect on where we began, and where we’ve ended up. It’s important that you talk about the journey, instead of just focusing on the destination ahead. So, whenever you’re ready, then.”

 

Louis swallowed. He still got a bit nervous in front of her, and worried that the words wouldn’t come to him and he’d just sit there like an idiot. But, after a moment, he heard a voice in his head that he’d come to associate with Harry, soothing him and encouraging him. He signed thank you to the voice in his head, and began.

 

*

 

“Louis, you’ve been an absolute pleasure to work with and to get to know. I’m so proud of you and what we’ve achieved together. Please don’t hesitate to call if you ever need something alright?”

 

Louis nodded. “Of course, Dr. Maryse. Umm … may I hug you?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them - he was still getting used to being able to talk freely without fear. Dr. Maryse, however, seemed delighted.

 

“Of course!”

 

They hugged, and Louis felt, once again, like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders.

 

They walked out together and Niall stood, ready to head off once more. Louis had just tucked his phone back into his pocket after answering a text from Harry when Dr. Maryse spoke again.

 

“Oh, I almost forgot. The head patrons of Hope Trust wanted me to ask you if you’d participate in the quarterly assembly. They’re focusing on the work The Blue Jay Program has been doing over the last year, and they were looking for patrons to make speeches on how the program has helped them.”

 

Louis felt all the color drain from his face, and he felt like there was no air left in his lungs. A speech? In front of people? Louis’ head was spinning, and he felt a touch on his arm … Niall. He looked over, trying to do the breathing exercises he had been working on recently.

 

“Do you think he’s ready for that?” Niall asked, knowing that Louis was thinking just that. Louis pressed a hand to his chest, counting silently in his head. In for four, out for four. In for four, out for eight. In for four, out for twelve …

 

“I actually spoke with Tom just last week. We both concur - Louis is more than ready. His speech has improved so much that he can communicate to most people at a fairly normal level, and he will not have to recount the story of his life, just that of his experience here with us,” Dr. Maryse explained.

 

Louis sucked in one final breath, having come back to himself, and looked up at Dr. Maryse. “I … I don’t know if I c-can … it’s a l-lot …”

 

Dr. Maryse put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, and Louis tried not to wince at her touch. “You don’t have to, love. It’s entirely up to you. The quarterly assembly isn’t very large - we usually hold it here in the conference room. It would probably be up to two hundred people, max. Most of them doctors and patrons, like yourself. But again, it’s your choice. Just let me know, okay?” She smiled warmly and walked back towards her office door. She turned at the last moment. “I’d like to see you once a year for the next five years, just to check in. Take care, Louis.”

 

Louis nodded, feeling slightly nauseous, and Dr. Maryse headed back into her office, leaving Louis scrabbling for a seat. Niall got him sitting down and crouched in front of him, his eyes focused directly on Louis.

 

“Hey … Lou, you’re alright. You don’t have to do it.”

 

“I … I know, Ni. It was j-just a surprise.” Louis looked up at Niall, finally feeling the confusion over his selection as the shock wore off. “Wh-why me? I’m a m-mute and they want me to g-give a speech?” He laughed a bit at that, hearing how ludicrous it sounded.

 

“You used to be a mute. You’re not that person anymore, Lou, and you’ve done so well here. That’s why they want you - you have a real story to tell, an inspirational one that might help people just like you come forward.”

 

Louis nodded, letting Niall’s words sink in a bit. Niall was right, as he almost always was - this was a huge opportunity for him to spread awareness about what he’d gone through, how he’d gotten to here. But it was still a huge undertaking. Sure, he could talk to Harry and Niall and even Liam just fine, only with a few minor hiccups, but an entire crowd of people he didn’t know?

 

“Come on, let’s get you to work. Out into the fresh air. You can think about it, remember? You don’t have to decide now,” Niall reminded him, holding out his hand. Louis took it and stood up. Fresh air would do him good, definitely.

 

*

 

It was late, a lot later than he was usually awake, but Louis couldn’t sleep. All he could think about was a crowd of blank faces staring at him, judging him, putting him into whatever category they reserved for former mutes with extreme trauma. He threw the covers off, feeling suddenly warm, and Harry stirred next to him.

 

“Mmm … Lou, w’times’it?” he mumbled, opening one bleary eye. Louis just shook his head.

“Go back to sleep, H, I-I’m fine,” Louis mumbled, trying to convince himself as well as Harry. But Harry knew him better than that, and he sat up, rubbing at his eyes like a child as he tried to wake himself up.

 

“I know something’s bothering you, Lou. We can go for a walk, if you’d like. Clear your head a bit?” Harry suggested, stretching and cracking his back.

 

Louis nodded, realizing that maybe that was what he needed. A walk with his boyfriend when no one could see them or interrupt them or expect something of him. He stood up and pulled joggers over his boxers, throwing on his hoodie from earlier and slipping his feet into the nearest pair of shoes. He turned to see Harry already set to go, a grey beanie smashed over his mess of hair. Louis loved him so much.

 

They headed out into the crisp end of autumn air, their hands linked between them as they headed for the park. The night was quiet except for the rustling of the trees in the breeze and the occasional hoot of an owl. Louis looked up at the stars, hoping for some guidance, but the sky was cloudy, only allowing a slice of the moon through.

 

“Wanna tell me what’s on your mind, love?” Harry asked as they made their way to Louis’ favorite bench. They settled on it and Louis turned to look at Harry, just admiring him. His green eyes were alive and full of life, just like they’d always been. His skin was starting to lose the tan he’d gotten over the summer when they’d splurged and gone to the shore for a bit. His smile, though a bit wavering now, was still present, and everything about him just made Louis feel calm and safe.

 

“Umm, Hope Trust wants me to make a speech …” Louis said slowly, fiddling with the strings on his joggers. “Th-they want me to t-talk in front of … of …” He struggled, his tongue feeling heavy and his throat feeling tight, but he pushed past it, holding on tighter to Harry’s hand. “I want to do it. But I don’t know if …”

 

Harry nodded, understanding, as he always did, exactly what Louis wanted to say. “Well, that’s a big thing, I get that. I’d be hesitant too, if I’m honest. I’m not a big speech maker.” He sat, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, before continuing. “I think you have to do what’s right for you. They probably think you’re ready, and I do too - your improvement over the last few months especially has been amazing. But it’s what you think that matters. If you don’t feel ready, decline and maybe do it next time, or next year, or whenever. It won’t be a bad thing if you’re not up to it.”

 

Louis sighed resting his head on Harry’s shoulder and shivering a little bit. It was already starting to feel a bit like snow, now that he thought about it. Harry always knew the right thing to say, and Louis sat there, snuggled up to his heater of a boyfriend, thinking about his words.

 

“I … I want to feel ready. And I do. I want to make them proud.” He glanced upward, where the clouds had given way finally, and found his stars immediately. Both of them seemed to be winking at him tonight. “They’d want me to do this. My mum always said that it was the things we did for others that made us who we are. She said that one smile from me or Vic would have the whole world smiling with us.” Louis smiled, reminiscing about those days for just a moment before returning his attention to the moment at hand. “I want to help p-people. And if g-giving a speech is what will do that, I … I have to do it.”

 

Harry squeezed his hand, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Then I support you. I’ll help you practice your speech if you want. You’ve got a bit of time before it, right?”

 

“Two weeks,” Louis said quietly, feeling the weight of the deadline now that he’d pretty much made a decision.

 

“Well, that’s enough time. But no more of that. I’m fucking freezing and I wanna go home and cuddle my boyfriend to sleep. How does that sound?”

 

Louis stood and, for once, was the one to offer Harry a hand, which he took, pressing his lips to Louis’ knuckles before standing up. Louis blushed furiously and cuddled close to Harry, feeling his much needed warmth.

 

“That sounds wonderful.”

 

*

 

Louis sat huddled in a far corner of the hallway, wiping his sweaty palms on his dress slacks and tugging at his collar. He felt like the walls were getting closer, closing in on him. He couldn’t do this. No matter how many times he’d practiced it with Harry, no matter how many times he read the note cards clutched in his hands, he still felt terrified. He’d been crazy to think he was even close to ready for something as big as a speech.

He looked around, figuring he might be able to get out of there before anyone came to get him, but just as he was preparing himself to do so, the door to the conference room opened and Harry slipped out, hurrying down the hall and adjusting his tie.

 

“Lou, they’re gonna be ready for you in a- oh, Louis …” Harry said as he realized that Louis was in no shape to respond to him. Louis sat on his hands, trying to stop them from shaking, but it was no use. Harry sat down next to him, putting a gentle hand on his arm.

 

“Wh-what are you doing …” Louis asked, his voice coming out all scratchy. “You’re supposed to be at induction!”

 

Harry shrugged. “I told them I’d get to it another day. Medical school can wait - you’re more important. This whole thing is more important.” He brushed his hair out of his eyes and leveled his gaze at Louis. “You sure you want to do this? They’ll understand if you decide to back out.”

 

Louis was tempted to take that opportunity, and he opened his mouth to say that he wanted Harry to take him home, but he couldn’t get the words out. Something was stopping him. He looked up at Harry, his eyes a bit bleary from the tears he was trying desperately to hold back.

 

“Harry … I w-want …” he said, but his words came out in a whisper. Harry’s hands were on his cheeks now, supporting his face and wiping away a few stray tears.

 

“What do you want, baby? I’ll give you whatever you need.”

 

Louis swallowed, trying to take in full breaths instead of short ones. “W-want you to s-sit in the front. S-so I have something t-to focus on.”

 

Harry’s smile at those words told Louis all he needed to know, and solidified his decision once and for all. He stood, brushing his hands down the front of his shirt, fiddling with the tie Niall had picked out for him that morning.

 

Harry held out his hand and Louis took it, weaving their fingers together and breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

 

“I’m ready.”

 

*

 

The lights were nearly blinding as Louis finally stepped up onto the small stage. He looked out over the heads of the small crowd and felt his stomach turn over, but he focused his gaze on Harry, who was staring up at him from the front row with pride in his eyes. Off to his left, Louis could see a board with the logo of The Blue Jay Program and a picture of his mother. This was for her. It was all for her.

 

He shuffled his notecards and cleared his throat, waiting for an encouraging nod from Harry before he began, speaking into the microphone.

 

“Umm, good afternoon. I … I’m Louis Tomlinson, and I j-joined this project back in December.” He paused, moving to his next notecard, needing a moment to breathe. “I’m a psychogenic mute. That means that I can … umm, speak to certain people but not others, depending on th-the day. I have this impediment because …” He paused again, glancing over at the photo of his mum, preparing himself to say the next words. “Because my mum and sister were murdered in front of me.”

 

He closed his eyes, trying to contain the rush of emotions he felt at saying it out loud to a group of people for the first time. They all knew, of course, that he was Laura’s son by now, but it was a big step for him to admit it aloud. A collective murmur ran around the room as some of the people in the crowd adjusted themselves in their seats. Louis’ heart was racing, but he plowed on, knowing that he was nearly done.

 

“I’ve been w-working with Tom Garney. He’s a speech therapist sp-specializing in psychogenic mutism. He has helped me regain m-my ability to talk with most people.” He swallowed hard, shuffling his cards once again, feeling his hands start to shake a little. He’d known this would happen, but he couldn’t get the words out fast enough. He just had to keep going. “I’ve also been s-seeing Dr. Imogen Maryse, a PTSD specialist, to help cope w-with my … with my …”

 

He was losing it, and he knew it. His throat felt like it had barbed wire in it and he was starting to feel dizzy. He took a sip of water, stepping back momentarily from the microphone. He sought Harry’s eyes in the crowd, and Harry was already looking at him, waiting for them to lock eyes. He raised his hands so no one else would see and signed something. It wasn’t anything any other person would know - it was between them. As Louis watched Harry perform

the sign over and over again, he found it in himself to keep breathing, to not let his anxiety take him over. He could do this. He was almost there. He stepped back up to the microphone and spoke with slightly more confidence. “It’s because of them that I’m here.”

 

He looked out into the crowd and found Tom and Dr. Maryse, who were both watching him, watery eyed. He smiled slightly, and continued.

 

“What I’ve been through, it’s terrible. I know that. But I have … the most amazing p-people surrounding me. My best friends …” He nodded to Niall and Liam, who grinned. “My boyfriend …” He looked at Harry, who had tears on his cheeks but was smiling wide, dimple cratering his cheek. “They cared for me. Everyone else just s-saw was a problem that needed fixing. Not them. They … they helped me heal. I will always be eternally g-grateful.”

 

He was on his last card now, and he breathed in and out slowly.

 

“I am proud to say that my mum, Laura Tomlinson, started this. She couldn’t have known what would happen, but … somehow, she knew. I hope that she and my sister would be proud. You’ve accomplished amazing things h-here. Thank you.”

 

Louis let out a heavy breath as the room broke into applause, and he hurried off the stage, right into Harry’s waiting arms.

 

“Louis, Louis …” Harry murmured, stroking his hair and kissing his head. “You did amazing, you sounded so good up there. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

 

Louis just nodded, letting Harry hold him. He felt another body hit them, and then another, and he knew that Liam and Niall had joined them. He was thankful that they blocked out most of the noise - it was making him just a little uneasy. But he’d done it. A year ago, he wouldn’t have even considered speaking in front of a crowd, let alone one of this size. He could barely talk to himself. And now, he was here, having just delivered a speech to 200 doctors and patrons, about his experience.

 

He’d come this far, and now that he had, there was one last thing he knew he needed to do to move forward once and for all. But he’d wait to ask them. Right now, this, being here with his friends, was enough.

 

*

 

It was as he finished up work, serving Niall and Harry the final cups of tea of the night, that he finally blurted it out.

 

“I want to go see them.”

 

Niall and Harry both looked up, surprised. Harry looked a bit confused, but Niall’s eyes were wide and serious.

 

“Lou, you haven’t … I mean to say, you never wanted to … are you sure?”

 

The realization seemed to dawn on Harry then, and his expression became similar to Niall’s. Louis looked between them both.

 

“I need to. It’s … it’s important. I … was wondering if you’d come with me? Both of you?”

 

Harry nodded at once. “Of course, Lou. Whatever you need.”

 

Louis turned to Niall, who was looking a bit awkward. “Are you sure you want me along? I mean - might be better if it’s just you and Harry, you know … relationship and stuff,” Niall mumbled, looking away.

 

“Ni … you took care of me. You kept me alive. My mum loved you, and so d-did Vic. I want you there,” Louis said, trying to put a bit of force behind his words. Because he meant them, every single one, and he needed Niall to know that he wasn’t just some third wheel and he never would be. Thankfully, Niall’s cheerful smile returned, and it was settled. Louis was going to see his mum and sister for the first time in three years.

 

*

 

Louis felt fine when they got in the car that morning, dressed against the chilly air. He felt okay when they entered the flower shop, picking up a few bright ones and paying for them to be wrapped extra nicely. Louis felt normal right up until they were standing before the gates of the cemetery. Louis stood there, staring over the lines of headstones, and only when he felt Harry’s hand on his arm did he realize that he was trembling.

 

“Lou, you okay?” he asked, his deep voice penetrating through all of the other voices in Louis’ head and bringing him back to face this reality. Louis nodded, pressing his lips together, and pushed through the gates, following Niall, who knew where they were going.

 

They walked along in silence for a bit, just looking around. Some families were having a nice chat around the grave of a loved one. Over in the distance, Louis could see a line of people in black, following a casket as it was taken to the person’s final resting place. He was painfully reminded of the funeral he’d never attended, having been deemed unable to go by the multitude of doctors watching over him at the time. Niall had gone for him, and had brought back one of the roses they’d thrown on the casket.

 

Now, however, as they reached the turn in the small winding road, Louis pushed those thoughts away. Those were his past. There was nothing he could do to change what happened. That was something that Dr. Maryse had harped on about in his early sessions, and he knew she was right, even though his mind was berating him for a multitude of things he should have done. All he could do was make up for it, here and now.

 

“Louis, umm … this is them, right here,” Niall said softly, stopping a few steps ahead and turning off the path, walking four headstones down. Louis froze at the edge of the grass, trying to collect himself. This was a moment he’d thought about many times over the years, and he was only now coming around to the idea of being ready for it. But they were here now. There was no turning back.

 

Louis stepped over to where Niall was looking down at two graves, both starting to look a bit worse for wear. It was clear that no one had been to them in a long time. The grass was growing high so that it obscured some of the words. There were weeds and dead leaves scattered around them, and dirt and bird poo on the tops and sides of the stones themselves. Louis knelt down so that he was level with them, and read the words carved into the stones.

 

**Laura Johannah Tomlinson**

**Born March 25, 1973**

**Died December 7, 2016**

 

**Victoria Laura Tomlinson**

**Born October 12, 2003**

**Died December 7, 2016**

 

There were words underneath both of their names, but they were covered by the tallest grass and weeds. Louis put the flowers down next to him and moved closer, tearing the grass and weeds away. He felt Harry and Niall do the same next to him, and for the next few minutes, they worked in silence, cleaning up the graves. Niall had even thought to bring along a cloth to wipe them down with.

 

When Louis finally stopped ripping at the green and brown blades, he sat back, feeling like he’d accomplished something. There, on the bottom of both graves, were the same words, seemingly freshly carved:

 

**The darkest nights produce the brightest stars.**

 

Louis held back a sob as he brushed his fingers over their names, over the words that he himself had written ages ago. He thought his book of poetry had gotten lost in the selling of everything in the house and the evidence lockers, but someone had found it. Someone had used those words.

 

He could feel Harry and Niall standing behind him, letting him have his moment, and he was grateful. He picked up the flowers again, holding them tightly so he didn’t shake, and spoke quietly.

 

“Hi, Mum, Vic. S-s-sorry it took me so long, I just … coming here, it felt too real. I didn’t want to accept it. I was too scared, but I … I’m here now.” Louis cleared his throat, feeling a bit parched. “It’s finally over. Wayne is l-locked up, for good. I, umm, I love you both, so much. I m-miss you every … every day.” He was crying now, but he didn’t care. He let the tears run down his cheeks, dripping off his chin and landing on the dry ground beneath him.

 

It took several deep breaths before he was willing to place the flowers there, in between the two graves. He stood then, not bothering to brush his knees off, and pressed his hand first to his lips, and then to each grave in turn. “You can be at peace now.”

 

Louis took a step back, now standing between Niall and Harry, who were both sniffling a bit. Somehow, that made Louis feel better. He didn’t have to carry the burden of his pain alone anymore - he had people he trusted and loved, people who would let him be sad and share in his sadness, but would also bring him back up when he was ready.

 

Niall moved forward next, placing a rose neatly against each of the graves. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. Louis knew what this meant, both for him and for Niall, and it held more weight than anyone else knew.

 

“Lou, do you mind if I … I had something I wanted to say,” Harry said, and Louis looked up at him, a bit shocked. He nodded, though, and Harry took Louis’ place, kneeling in front of the graves and sticking his hand in his pocket, pulling two things out of it. Louis watched as Harry placed two small star pendants in front of the graves, and then he spoke. “I didn’t know either of you, but I can see you both in Louis. He shines bright enough for all three of you, and you should be proud of him. And I’m sorry. He lost you and it broke him, but you also lost him. And I know that one day you’ll be reunited, and you’ll finally be able to be the family you always deserved to be. I … I care very much for him. I want to make him happy, and I know I can’t be any sort of replacement, but I hope that you’d both accept me into your family one day.”

 

The wind whistled through the sparse trees, making Louis shiver, but he felt his heart glowing as he felt the weight of Harry’s words. Harry stood up and Louis went to him at once, pulling him into a hug and burying his face in Harry’s shoulder.

 

“I love you,” he whispered. It was the first time either of them had uttered those words aloud, but it felt right for Louis. He knew now that what he felt was love, and for once, he didn’t want to hold onto that word. He wanted to use it, to spread it, to make other people feel as loved as he did.

 

Harry pulled away from the hug and signed the words back. In a way, it meant more than Harry voicing them - they were communicating in the way of the other, a special something that only they had. And everything felt right.

 

*

 

It was cold up on the roof, but Louis didn’t care. He was wrapped in two of Harry’s jumpers and had on a grey knit beanie that he was pretty sure also belonged to Harry. He looked up at the mostly clear sky, looking at how bright the stars were tonight. Ever since he’d gone to see his mum and sister, everything seemed just a little brighter. He didn’t feel like he was weighed down by his past anymore, and it was a relieving feeling.

 

“Hey, you. What are you doing up here at this time?”

 

Harry’s voice made Louis turn, and he gestured for his boyfriend to join him by the edge of the roof.

 

“Just looking,” Louis answered, tucking himself under Harry’s arm and laying his head on Harry’s shoulder.

 

They stood in silence for a few minutes, looking out over the city and all its lights and bustle. Somehow, the noise didn’t bother Louis so much when he was up here.

 

“So … how was it?” Louis asked Harry, tilting his face up to see Harry’s eyes, which became suddenly bright.

 

“Lou, it’s amazing there. The facilities they have are pristine, state of the art, and the program itself is … god, I wish you were doing it with me.” Harry said, pressing a kiss to the side of Louis’ head.

 

“You know I c-can’t,” Louis whispered, but his heart ached. Going to medical school was Harry’s dream, and it had been Louis’ dream for a long time as well, but things were different now. Louis knew it would be a long time before he could consider school. He was so happy for Harry though, and planned to learn as much as possible through him. “You’re going to love it there. So proud of you, H.”

 

Harry beamed and pressed their lips together, making Louis’ worries and disappointments melt away instantly. Louis hummed and pulled Harry closer, needing more, wanting more.

 

It was only when he felt something wet on his forehead that he broke away from Harry, a little breathless, and looked up. White flakes were falling from the sky - not many, but enough. It was the first snow of winter.

 

Harry laughed and spun Louis around, cupping his face and kissing him again, and Louis found his hands in Harry’s hair, holding him close by the curls at the base of his neck.

 

When they broke apart the second time, they huddled together, watching as the snow gently drifted down, melting as it touched the pavement below.

 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Harry asked, linking his fingers through Louis’, and Louis couldn’t help but smile, remembering a night from ages ago, the night that, really, everything had changed.

 

“Yeah. Beautiful.”

  
  


_ Fin~ _

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are appreciated! Thank you for reading!


End file.
